Honor Above All
by Lady of the North Star
Summary: "To protect, to defend, to value their lives above your own". That is a knight's words, strong words. On Azeroth, Sir Harrold James Potter, second life of Harry Potter enters. Will he survive with the words and actions of a Knight? Or will the impending doom of the Legion's invasion cost him more than his honor?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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Azeroth, a world rich in magic from the purest Light to the darkest of Necromancy. Home to a multitude of species each more diverse than the first. It had survived the worst of invasions by the ever present threat of the Legion and had been a bulwark of strength for other worlds connected to it. Never did Azeroth show weakness against many attempts of the Burning Legion despite its citizens warring with one another as mortals are prompted to do. Every time the Legion invades through its minions, Azeroth answered the call and united with one another to put a stench on the Legion's plans.

Among the races of Azeroth which was supposed to be the strongest and the most equipped to stand against the hellish army that threatened their world had been the Night Elves. Strong, independent to the core and a have a healthy sense of the word "freedom", the Night Elven people had been the first to face the threat of the Legion and its agents. Sure it costed them a lot, but they have persevered and beaten them back and enclosed themselves on their forest of trees, enjoying their immortality while the world forgets the threat that the Legion imposed, focusing on the Orcs instead under the leadership of Orgrrim Doomhammer who was currently the warchief of the Horde.

But this time, another event that not even the Aspect of Time have expected occured on Azeroth and maybe, just maybe change this world a great deal and stop the sorrows that might come to pass for interfering later on.

"ZAP!"

"Ouch!"

"Gerrof me!"

"Tell him to gerrof me!"

"We're in armor you nitwit! You get off me!"

"I can't! It's too heavy!"

"My plants!"

"Shut up with your plants Neville!"

"And you stop complaining about your hair Malfoy!"

"Then tell these two idiots to get off me! I'm not their pillow!"

"Ohh-,"

"Is little baby Malfoy worried that his panties got a twist?"

"I said get off me!"

"ENOUGH!"

Four sets of mouses automatically muzzled themselves as eight pair of eyes looked up to see the scowling face of their commander looking at them with those green eyes. Immediately two sets of voices sounded the area.

"It was all Malfoy's fault!"

"HEY!" protested the blonde as green eyes glared at him before sighing tiredly.

"Get up! All of you!" he commanded to the four figures on the ground with half-armor ignoring the sniggering sounds at his back who watched the four Lieutenants of the Grandmaster struggle like ropes over one another as they gained their foots dusting the grass and the dirt from their chain mails and hauberks as they like him looked around them and whistled.

"So, this is Azeroth huh?" muttered one of the red heads looking at the beautiful gifts of nature around them which he himself agreed at. "Reminds me of Earth before our ancestors became a greedy bitch and started stripping it down for themselves,"

"How right you are Georgie," replied the other red-head the sound of water touching water heard making him look at his subordinate who is dipping his hand on a nearby spring to take a drink before looking at him. "This is way better than the spring that you found on that mountain Grandmaster,"

"Let me taste it too," ran his twin at his side using his gauntlet to take a mouthful of the crystalline liquid before making a satisfied sound. "Freddie's right Grandmaster. This is so much better than the one you have found for us,"

He merely rolled his eyes at the two jokers who despite annoying are incredibly useful when needed as he focused on the surroundings around him. They're right though, this place looked barely touched by human hands. The air touching his skin is cold, but not that cold that it might cause discomfort, but cold enough that it forced him to raise his scarf on his neck. Everywhere around him is misty and if not for the clearing that he and the large retinue around him, he would have panicked at the thick mist. The twins were right. This place was barely touched by human hands and interference. Looks like the one who brought them here was right after all and did not disappoint. They can start a new future here and have a chance to live instead of dying on that burning city to defend fat slobbering nobles willing to throw men on the meatgrinder as they ran away with their oily hides and riches leaving the smallfolk and the knights to defend them as the enemy army sacked the city. It was plain lucky that the deity who managed to bring them here was kind enough to their souls that they were given another chance. His men deserved it for their honor and loyalty, standing to the bitter end. He would do anything to repay that loyalty and that was the reason why they were here right now.

He is Harrold James Potter, Lord of House Potter, Grandmaster of the High Templar Order, son and heir of Lord James Potter the Second, Fifth of his name and commander of the defense at Acre. It was quite amusing actually every time he felt of the irony of the name of his father remained the same. For before he became Harrold, in his previous life, he is Harry James Potter, defeater of Voldemort, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived given a second chance for a life and those that he chose to bring with him.

"Neville, how's your observation going on?" asked Harrold stepping into the side of his best friend watching him cut gingerly to a plant before poring over it with one of the weird magnifying glasses that he had always with him that Harrold always noticed he brought with him wherever he go.

"This is some plants I've never seen before Grandmaster," spoke his subordinate still poring over the leaf that he cut. "Though I've never seen anything as healthy as this before. It looks like the plant is happy and thriving, having a life of its own,"

"I see," nodded Harrold. "Did you find anything edible to eat Nev? I won't have our men starve or accidentally poison themselves by chewing at a leaf that looks like a fruit,"

"There's some plants here that can be eaten though I advise we don't for the meantime until I and my apprentices conduct further study," spoke the botanist putting down the leaf he cut and placing it on a small glass that immediately froze the leaf sample, before Neville replaced it on his bag. "And I would need to study the ground to, to make sure that our plants would grow here. We have limited resources already and I would rather not waste any of our seedlings and fruits to plant until I confirmed that it indeed will grow. It would be annoying if we plant it and just lose it worms and parasites giving them a free meal,"

"I see, keep up the good work Neville," Harrold gave his friend a slight squeeze on the shoulder before walking off to find Malfoy who had extracted himself from the twins who are still wandering around and exploring though they kept their wits with them and didn't wander off as they are prone to do when Harry and the Order usually arrive on new lands to conquer.

As he expected, the former Malfoy scion are standing with the rest of the lower officers with the every present ledger he had on his hand, already furiously scribbling on it with his pen.

"Wasted no time on getting to work I see," smirked Harrold approaching them who immediately take note of his presence as the other officers placed a gauntlet on their hands and bowed. Only Malfoy didn't who merely nodded on his presence with a single word on his mouth that noted his acknowledgement. "Harrold,"

"Draco," replied Harrold nodding back to his old friend. He knew that Draco never bowed to anyone other than the kings and he would sooner lop off his legs than bow to Harrold. This might be their second life and they have made peace with one another, but Draco made a point of annoying him many times over where he doesn't bow and instead simply nodding to him despite him being the Grandmaster of the Order.

Looking at the other faces who have died before they came here, Harrold nodded to every single one of them. Each of them are knights wearing the familiar chain mail armor of the west, the only difference to them was the surcoat emblems on their fronts. Their is the red cross over a white field of the Templars. The Plain Black with the white cross of the Hospitallers and the Black field of the Black Nights. However the most distinguished came from the Green cloth with white cross of the Teutonic Knights who are wearing capes as part of their uniform.

"Draco," Harrold looked at his "secretary", simply an endearment since Draco Malfoy took on the role of dealing with the massive paperwork that comes with the title of Grandmaster. Apparently the former blonde spoiled ponce of Hogwarts had a talent on dealing with it and Harrold in his infinite wisdom designated it to him to deal with it. "Have you finished calling the role call for the men?"

"Yes Grandmaster," nodded the blonde knight looking at the ledger on his hand. "Currently according to estimates. We nearly have thirty thousand people in here right now with us on the clearing. Twenty thousand of those are able to bear arms while six thousand at least are designated knights. The rest are simply families, women and children, old people, squires and the like,"

"I see," muttered Harrold, rubbing his chin, green eyes looking thoughtful. "It's amazing that at least we have the number of half of Acre. I've expected less than ten thousand men in fact ever since we arrived here,"

"I'm more concerned if we have enough space right now Grandmaster," spoke the Teutonic Knight representative. "With our numbers, we would need to establish a settlement and soon. Even if we brought large amount of supplies with us, it would only be a matter of time before we have the problem of food shortage,"

"I agree with Sir Balinor Grandmaster," nodded the Hospitaller, his dark eyes gleaming. "If what you say is true Harry when you made the deal with the mysterious person, then we aren't the only people or kingdom on this planet. We need to establish ourselves strong and independent in order for us not to look like beggars that landed on their doorstep,"

"Aye. First impressions are the basis of respect of all Grandmaster," spoke the Black Knight of Germany. "I also advise that we be open minded. I seem to recall that you said "different species" when we arrived here Grandmaster Harrold. We need to remind our people that they think first before acting or else we might mistake some people as abominations or worse, demons,"

"Agreed," nodded Harrold. "First things first though. Send some of your men to scout the area and made sure that we have a five kilometer radius margin of safety in all directions. Make it clear to them not to attack anything that talks and as much as possible, run back rather than fight. I don't want some butter fingers accidentally killing a farmer with a farmer with a squid head pushing him out of the field with a plough since he is trespassing,"

The Grandmaster's words are followed by chuckles as the leader of the Knight Orders dispersed leaving only Malfoy with Harrold.

"Tell me Draco, how long will it before our supplies last?" asked the Grandmasster of the Templar Order to his old friend.

"Six months Harrold, if we ration it like we did during the siege. Five months if we cater to the need of the elderly and the young ones,"

"I see," said Harrold more to himself in a thoughtful tone. "If the land here was the same as the one in Earth that can accomodate the plants and Neville's magic, we would have a harvest on two months by the grain and barley and three for the rest. However I'm concerned with the meat. We have no poultry or anything that we can breed again and domesticize. Tell me Draco, can deer be domesticized?"

Harrold did his best to ignore his friend raising an eyebrow at him as if asking: "Are you fucking serious?"

"Deers," he stated simply.

"Yes, deers," confirmed Harrold. "Deer meat is incredibly soft when cooked correctly and harder to decompose than a pig's though having a couple of pigs to breed for later won't be bad either,"

"Can deers be even tamed?" blinked the blonde.

Harrold only grinned at him standing up as he pulled his sword on his hip. "That is something I plan to find out Draco. You know the drill right? Get everyone as comfortable as they can until we manage to find out where we are at the moment. I believe you already know the basics we usually apply every time we camp. The duty rosters and stuff like that, I leave in your capable hands. Ask help from Fred and George. Heavens only know that those two needed something to distract themselves with,"

Draco only scowled watching him as he walked out. "And I believe that you plan to go again scouting Grandmaster?"

"You already know the answer to that Draco,"

The blonde knight-turned-secretary only snorted. "Not that you will listen to me even if I cite regulations where there are a hundred rules that state that you must stay. Fine! Be it on your head Potter. Just be careful, I don't want to be the de facto leader of this group just becase some fish men accidentally ate you,"

Harrold only laughed as he saluted to the Malfoy air mockingly before walking off. It was good to annoy Draco.

Leading his footsteps to the tents that are being put up already, he waved and returned the gestures of the people that had been given a second chance. They're mostly from Jerusalem and Acre, pilgrims and civilians that have an honest heart who had been slaughtered either by Christians or Muslims during the different eras of the Crusades.

"Sir Harrold!" a young voice suddenly called out making Harrold sigh as a familiar teenager in chain mail met him, sandy hair visible on the small helmet that he is wearing. For someone who had idolized him on his first life, the boy retained the same fascination for him in his second.

"Colin," rumbled Harrold not bothering to shorten his strides as the young squire jogged after him, trying to keep up thanks to the white cape that had the same Templar symbol as Harry's cape.

"Where are you going Sir? This place is awesome! Do you think we have Saracens to kill here? Oh I can't wait to formally be a knight Sir! I promise I won't disappoint anyone. I would be the best knight there is. You are my master after all Sir. I would live by honor, integrity and...,"

Harrold resisted the fact to palm his face as his squire babbled on. There are two reasons that he agreed to squire the young deckhand which was Colin's work before he became his trainee. One was the fact that the boy had natural skills and had the honor of three knights combined, and two, to shut him up for bothering him three times a day, begging to be his squire. Apparently, Harrold made a mistake since it only made him bother the Grandmaster more.

Harrold in fact was no older than Colin. His father, Sir James have trained Harrold how to be a knight ever since he was old enough to wield a sword hammering the ethics of honor into his very being. At the age of eighteen, Harrold was knighted when he repulsed a bandit raid at one of the settlements under his family's protection. And at the age of twenty, he marched with the second crusade to retake Jerusalem. At twenty-three, he gained the position of being the Lieutenant of the former Grandmaster Pycelle. And at twenty-five, he assumed the position when Jerusalem fell due to an asshole of a king. He squired Colin for six months who is only sixteen when Acre fell and they were brought for a second chance here.

Making sure to return the salutes of other knights and greet the people as he passed still followed by a faithful Creevey. Harrold took his helmet and donned it as he reached the eastward side of the camp. Taking a red chalk from one of the guards who saluted him, he immediately beckoned for Colin the hand to become silent before gesturing to the boy to follow him as the two went to the shadows beneath the trees.

That was another reason why he endured the boy. Colin when not serious were obnoxiously loud, annoying and had a penchant for hero-worship. However when he was serious, the boy had the potential how to be a formal knight recalling everything that Harrold taught him in the sword. However the best out of him was his loyalty. Having Colin as a squire meant Harrold had his own personal bodyguard that won't be swayed by riches or promises of land and women. In a place like Acre, where backstabbing was in full display, having a squire like that would be like finding a diamond in a pig trough.

"So where are we going Sir?" asked Colin softly as they bustled through the underbush trying their best to walk despite the dirt that their white capes are havinbg thanks to the vegetation.

"Five kilometers," answered Harrold curtly. "Get your pen and paper Colin, and make notes of any landmarks you see that will aid us on mapping this place. The other scouts probably would do the same and we would exchange notes later with them for the evening meal,"

"Yes sir," spoke his squire grabbing the necessary utensils as they continued on.

Harrold just nodded as he trudged on. Heavens only know what is waiting for them on this canopy of trees.

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Being a Priestess of Elune, Tyrande was always busy. But that doesn't mean that she's simply sitting her rear butt in laziness like most priestess. She may be a servant of the Temple but first and foremost, Tyrande Whisperwind was a Sentinel and a warrior. In fact if truth be told, her duties didn't include much and she was barely showing her face on the temple unless on the annual festivals where she goes back to attend and perform her duties as a Priestess.

The current High Priestess, Alleia Brokenarrow is her friend since childhood, that is one of the main reasons why Tyrande is cut a large amount of slack and she spent most of her days wandering around the Moonglade hunting the occasional Satyr that wander from Felwood or doing the thing she loved the most to do, training her student.

Like today.

"Are you sure that it's safe Lady Tyrande?" Arko'Narin asked nervously as Tyrande guided the small boat they had on the stony beach, holding on as the boat nudged the stones.

"Of course I'm sure," replied the Priestess jumping off the boat wincing a bit as her bare feet touched the icy cold water to her ankles. "Now help me pull this ashore," grunted the Priestess as she hauled the small boat they have with her student's help to dry land.

Satisfied that their boat is clearly off the water, Tyrande picked up their bow and arrows plus the ever present knife that all Sentinels wore in case of close combat encounters, firmly strapping it to her side as she glanced at the misty island that they are in right now.

"What is this place?" asked Arko' looking worriedly at the streets. "I've never seen this place on the map before,"

"It's because most Night Elves don't," replied Tyrande. "Only a few knew this place, full of demented animal predators that attacked everything that moves under the trees,"

"D-demented predators?" stuttered the younger elf beside her in fear. "Don't tell me we're going to kill something my lady?"

Tyrande merely rolled her blue-silver eyes. This is exactly the reason why she had brought Arko' here. The young Night Elf is simply a century and a half years old, the youngest of the entire Night Elven population. For some reason the elven maid who bore her became pregnant for no reason two centuries ago and died giving birth to Arko'Narin leaving the girl an orphan, having no idea who her father is. But she is a Night Elf in full. Tyrande took it under herself to educate the girl and took her under her wing, training her to be a full-fledge Sentinel. Right now the girl still had a few decades before she would take the tests to acquire her tattoo on the face that all sentinels wore. Two hundred is the testing age for all Night Elves and Tyrande would make sure that her protege pass with flying colors.

"Yes we are," answered Tyrande walking towards the shade of the trees hearing the soft patter of her student's feet following her as she expected. Not that Arko' had a choice. The girl thanks to her young age and inexperience is still fearful of anything unknown and anything that attacks back. "We are here right now so that you can learn how to kill,"

"Kill? But what are we going to do about the carcass my lady? Night Elves don't eat meat. And haven't you taught me never to hunt down the wild animals no matter how hungry I might become?"

"Yes I did Arko'," nodded the Priestess as they hopped easily over a fallen log moving only with the silence and grace that only Night Elves can achieve, their scantily clad bodies like wraiths on the forest. "However you must know how it feels to kill. During my time, many Elves who fought with me are killed when they froze in the middle of the battle when they made their first kills. And many more are driven mad unable to cope with it. What we are going to do today is for you to experience what it means to take a life,"

"But you told me-,"

"Not to kill "innocent" animals?" finished Tyrande for her. "I did Arko. That is why I have chosen this place. Large amount of the animals here are mad for reasons I don't know. Maybe it is because of the residue left when Illidan betrayed us or the after effects of the Fel Magic that swept on the southeast from the continent of Azeroth. Still, it doesn't matter. What matters Arko' is that you make your first kill today and get rid of the after effects that it might cause later. You will need it if you want to pass the trials,"

"I-I see," nodded the younger elf mumbling softly to herself as they passed another tree trunk.

The Priestess of the Moon merely let off a soft smile grace her lips glancing at the worried and nervous look of her student. "You're not afraid are you?" she chided gently.

"What?! No, of course not. What made you think that my lady?" squawked the younger elf indignantly.

"Well you are glancing at the ground for the past thirty seconds. Is the tree roots that interesting Arko'?"

The young elf merely huffed, her cheeks staining red a bit making her look prettier than usual. "I'm keeping an eye out for tree roots. I don't want to face plant on the ground," she reasoned.

"Of course," chuckled the Priestess. "Tree roots. My bad, just ignore me Arko," If it was possible, the younger elf went red even more.

"You're so mean, you know that my lady?" she pouted as they passed another curve on the trees. "Where are we going anyway? Don't tell me we're just wandering around hoping that something attacks us out of nowhere. I'm nervous enough as it is,""

"That's exactly what we're doing,"

"WHAT?!"

"I'm just joking," laughed Tyrande at the Sentinel-trainee's outraged face, "We're heading to the river that flows from the mountains on the middle of the island. What did I teach you about animals Arko and their behavior? And can you tell me how to locate them?"

The younger elf merely sniffed, obviously still annoyed by the joke. "The plant eating ones gather at merely two places that profited them both. Where they can eat and where they can drink. But since most plant eating ones can eat almost anywhere, the best way to find them would be to go to a water source. The source after all doesn't move and whether they like it or not, they would need to drink and that is the best way to find them,"

"Good," nodded Tyrande quite pleased that her student retained her teachings. "And where can you find most predators Arko?"

"The place where there is an abundance of prey in them, not to mention also a water source for drinking,"

"So do you understand now why we are going to a river here?" asked Tyrande ghosting over the trunk of a tree like it is nothing as she jumped to the next tree.

"Yes,"

"Why?"

The younger elf's face morphed into a thoughtful one for a while as she contemplated her answer before speaking slowly. "In an island such as this, water sources can come only either by springs or a river. And since a spring is not big enough to feed the needs of a small group of even deer, the best option to find a herd of it is in the river. And where there are deer, there is also the presence of predators hunting them,"

"Very good," nodded Tyrande quite pleased at Arko' who beamed at the praise. "It's good that you remembered my lessons Arko'. Remember them well, they will help you later at life when you passed the Sentinel's test," the two continued jumping on the branches before Arko' finally broke it.

"My lady?

"Hmm,"

"How big is this island?" asked the younger Night Elf.

Tyrande's face morphed into a thoughtful one. "I am not really sure. All I know that it takes at least two days and a fortnight to reach the other side from where we came from,"

"That big?" gasped the younger elf.

Tyrande only laughed. "Yes, that big. Makes me wonder myself why the ruling conclave haven't colonized this place yet. Maybe it was because of the animals that dwell here,"

It didn't take long for the two Night Elves to reach the aforementioned river. Like Tyrande had said, the river was full of deer and even aurochs (cow like creatures that went extinct. Oh just use google to search it) drinking on the riverside.

"Well, what do you know," smiled Tyrande eyes gazing down from where they perch over a bush where a lone Furlbog foaming in the mouth and with obvious madness on its eyes, stalk a small group of deer a few yards of them.

"I believe that's your target," pointed Tyrande at the mad Furlbog who made an impromptu dash with its small legs making the deer bound away in small leaps making the Furlbog madder than ever as it roared its frustrations on the air. "Easy as pie,"

"But it's so large!" protested Arko', the young Night Elf's eyes filled with fear as the foaming Furlbog lumbered even more away that she had to climb down if she wanted to take a shot at it.

"Sentinels deal with bigger things all the time," shrugged Tyrande. "Now go! That's an order,"

It didn't please Tyrande to force her protege with such harsh words, but she knew she had to do it. The time would come when Arko' would leave her side and the young Night Elf must understand the harshness of this world if she plan to survive it.

Watching the young warrior slide down effortlessly on the tree they are perched in, Tyrande can't help but watch with pride as Arko' stalked the large Furlbog who settled on dipping its head on the river to catch some fish after its failed hunt. The girl barely made a sound as she pulled her bow aiming at the joint of the neck that connected to the head. Tyrande nodded at her protege's outstanding choice of target. One hit at that spot hard enough would take down even the biggest of beasts.

Still, even Tyrande can't help but hold her breath as Arko' released the arrow with only a small snap that can't be avoided when the string return to its tensing. She watched the violet shaft of the arrow flow on a slow motion and hit the Furlbog, right in its left eye.

Immediately it roared in agony at the pain on its head as it was blinded. Tyrande immediately found herself scrambling down the tree like a spider, knife drawn. She didn't expect the Furlbog to turn at the sound of the string's tensing. It must have been loud enough to attract its attention, or this Furlbog was old and experienced. Still, one thing she was sure of. If she didn't reach Arko's side before the mad animal. Her student would be ripped to pieces.

"Arko!" Tyrande yelled at her student many yards away who stood frozen in fear and dismayas the Furbolg leveled its gaze at her with its remaining eye wth such hatred before bounding towards her on great leaps.

"NO!" screamed Tyrande arms automatically twisting as she threw the long knife at the large animal. It stuck on its paws, buried to the hilt making the Furlbog, if even more maddened as it charged the young Night Elf out in the open with nowhere to run.

"NO!" cried the Priestess in horror, closing her eyes as the Furlbog slashed at her young charge with its heavy paws. She didn't want to see, she didn't want to acknowledge that her student that she loved as a little sister is dead. That attack was hard enough to cut her in half and Tyrande had no wish to see the guts of Arko'Narin spilled on the ground, eyes looking at her with blame for her decision to pit her against the anima.

However what she didn't expect was to hear a voice speaking in a language that she doesn't understand. Opening her silver blue eyes, she can't help but gasp seeing an armored figure with a helmet wearing a white cape with a red design on it between her student and the Furbolg who had its large paw stopped by a massive longsword between it and the unknown person.

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 **Hello readers. My name is Mia Sofia. Yes it's my real name and I wont tell my surname. I've taken over the account of Cassie, my best friend who went to the city to find work. I would be updating the details about me on the account soon. This is my first work on Warcraft and since I have no idea about the game other than the strategy ones which I played until Frozen Throne, my timeline would be on the Second Age if I'm right where Orgrimm Doomhammer is still alive and the Alliance haven't went to war on Draenor yet.**

 **On this story you might have noticed that the pairing would be Tyrande and Harry. Maybe I would add one more later, which I don't plan yet, I hate harems. Still, there are a few changes about Tyrande here. For starters, her romance with Malfurion is not that strong and the Druid haven't fucked her yet. And second, in my story, Tyrande isn't the High Priestess. I changed it since that would affect the story line later.**

 **Now about the faces of my characters, I envisioned Harrold here wearing the armor of Warden at the For Honor gameplay. I never liked the original armors of the Medieval Knights. As for Tyrande, I know many looked at her as plain, but if you search at the image where Tyrande X Illidan on images at Yahoo. There is a picture wallpaper there where Tyrande is at the water removing Illidan's bandage on the eyes. She looks beautiful and that is why I chose her for the pairing. There would be other pairings soon, but that will have to wait.**

 **I promised Cassie that I would finish her work "Newcomers" I count on all your aid on helping me with the timelines and events, characters and such since I my idea is zero as an egg. I read the story and was impressed. I intend to finish it.**

 **As for now. I would be pleased to see and hear your reviews. I dont mind negative ones. It helps as long as you dont dictate me what my story should be. I already planned it. That's all.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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 _"Damned Furball!"_ cursed Harrold mentally. As strong as he is wielding his favored longsword and wearing armor all the time. The bear-like-thing nearly dropped him to his knees by that single strike with its paw. Of course with the thing three times his size even in full armor, he should have expected it. Why in the world did that girl even try to attack this thing?

"Sir Harrold!" Harrold cursed as he turned his head to see his apprentice charging with his own sword swinging in arcs over his head.

"Damn you Colin! Get away!" shouted Harrold too late as his apprentice thrusted his sword with a yell at the thing.

It didn't have the intended effect of hurting the monster as it roared at the new interloper swatting the blade away with one of its paws nearly sending his apprentice toppling down as he lost his balance. Still it has the unexpected side effect. Temporarily freed Harrold from the deadlock between his longsword and its paws as it moved its weight when it faced his squire, Harrold yelled a challenge as he pulled himself back from the remaining paw making the bear monster nearly topple down headfirst as the leverage that is Harrold suddenly disappear. Wielding the heavy longsword two-handed, Harrold didn't waste the chance as he slashed in a downward stroke with all his strength at the bear monster's back of the neck before it recovered.

He grinned beneath his helmet as he heard the satisfying crunch as sharpened metal sank beneath meat and bone, the longsword buried halfway on the longsword's blade. He immediately frowned though as no blood poured from the wound of the bear.

Harrold nearly lost his footing and he had to let go of the longsword as the bear lurched upward in such speeds jaws frothing in anger looking not the least fazed with the longsword buried on its neck. One eye glaring in madness, it immediately swiped the knight with its paw. The sound of chain mail ripping filled the forest and Harrold coughed blood as he felt the gashes made by the claws of the bear that passed through his armor like water.

"What is this thing?" asked Harrold aloud to no one as he drew the kite-shaped shield at his back and the standard sword of the crusaders at his hip. Though inwardly he can't help but wonder what good it will do if the longsword can't even penetrate its hide.

Looking at the creature in its remaining eye which is currently trained on him as it pawed the ground like an angry bull, Harrold readied himself shield first knowing that he can't take another hit on his half-armor with the thing's paws. It could rip him in half if he allowed it.

Roaring loudly that Harrold is sure that the entire island heard it, the creature charged with its two hind legs bounding in speeds that even he did not expect. It would have looked funny with its stubby length, except for the fact that it didn't look funny at all especially with it frothing in the mouth and paws raised with claws large enough to disembowel a horse and a rider with one strike.

"TWANG!" the Grandmaster of the Templar Order spared a glance at his huffing apprentice who looked muddy kneeling on the ground with an empty crossbow at his hands.

The sudden sound of string smacking wood suddenly sounded the air in an echo and Harrold watched in amazement as his squire's crossbow bolt pierced the bear thing's remaining eye making it roar in agony though it didn't divert its path despite it being blind. In fact in Harrold's opinion, it even became even more dangerous since it might trample him to grease. What he didn't expect was for the green-haired scantily armored woman to suddenly appear on the bear thing's back, her landing forcing it to stumble a bit as she buried a knife on the thing's frothing mouth making it how before shifting her attention on pulling the longsword of his buried on its hide. He could practically see the muscles straining on her lithe frame as she pulled the two handed weapon before a yell left her lips as she kicked off the monster throwing the sword to him in the process midair as she crashed on the ground as the monster still blindly charged in his direction.

Body moving before he can even think, a product of years of experience of fighting Saracens. Harrold dropped the sword and shield as he skidded on the earth grabbing the longsword falling at his direction with one hand before planting its hilt at the ground as he awaited the bloody and blind bear beast to crash into him. And crash it did.

With a sickening crunch, the monster howled in agony as it stumbled into him, the point of the blade piercing its throat sending rivets of blood as the monster's own weight drew its own bane in as Harrold gritted his teeth as the man and a half long sword pushing him slowly back on the muddy river ground, his steel boots skidding on the wet patch of Earth.

Despite the blade nearly buried halfway down on the beast's neck, it still moved; its paws waving back and forth as it choked on its own blood trying to dislodge the irritating weapon on its neck and at the same time hit the thing that is wielding it. Harrold didn't buckle. Eyes fixed with determination, he held on to the weapon even as the paws of the bear got nearer and nearer to his face.

 _"How long does this thing takes before it dies?"_ thought the Knight to himself as the front part of the bear monster looked like someone had carved it with the way the red stains marred its body from the wound on its throat.

Then finally the Furlbog roared in defiance one more time before coughing and stopped dead with the longsword still buried on its neck.

Panting from the effort of stopping the mad bear on its tracks, Harrold leaned and pulled the longsword out with a small squelch making the dead body crash to the ground with a small earthquake.

"Grandmaster! Grandmaster!" his squire's voice sounded suddenly from his side making Harrold look up letting off an eye smile at the sixteen year old who skidded at his side with the crossbow strapped at his back and his own sword strapped back to his waist. He looked nothing worse for wear though his armor had a huge rent at the side that must have taken the brunt of his fall and would need a good cleaning. Unlike Harrold, he had no helmet and the Grandmaster of the Templar Order could see several bleeding scratches on his squire's face.

"Hey Colin, are you alright?" Harrold asked tiredly leaning on the longsword that he planted point first on the ground. He'll never admit it out loud else his young squire will hear; but Harrold had been nearly drained by that fight against the monster. As mad as it is, the beast had tired him out. "Good shot by the way,"

"Yes sir and thank you sir!" saluted the young knight, his crossbow dangling on his belt before relaxing to look at the dead bear-like creature which is still lying on a pool of its own blood. "What is that thing sir?"

"Christ if I only know," answered Harrold staring at the corpse the same as his young squire. "However if I'm right. The ladies we saved know more about these things than we do," added Harrold looking at the two women who are only a few feet away from them.

Don't get him wrong, Harrold was no stranger to the beauties of women. He had seen many in his career of being a knight, and especially later when he was promoted to Grandmaster. With Europe succumbing to lack of funds and poverty; the gap between rich and poor even lengthening, knights and young nobles were a primary target for single young women in order to escape the poverties of life.

Of course with Harrold being a son of a castle Lord, the moment he got of age women immediately fell on his feet stalking him like lions on a gazelle waiting only for a moment of weakness before pouncing. It was worse when his father knighted him. "Heroes" were a primary target for ladies both noble and lowborn. It was a relief actually for him when he went off to Jerusalem to be a knight. Declared a holy city by King Baldwin the Second, Harrold found peace there momentarily from women where he built his career to be a Grandmaster. When Jerusalem fell and Acre became the Christians' main city, it all went to hell. The city was full of brothels and the streets were lined with whores that can entice even the most noblest of knights to settle down. With Harrold being the Grandmaster, it was like living with a cooked steak at your back with hounds following you. So yes, Harrold was used to the beauty of the opposite sex. Not that he's gay, more than once he had been tempted by the notion of simply leaving the war and quitting the Order every time he looked out of his window and see the rich and the powerful, people he had to protect on the city bully the poor, looking to them as nothing more than animals. It would be so easy to simply throw in the towel, find one of the prettier girls (which Acre had in abundance), promise her a good life and go home with her and marry her off.

The only reason that he won't was the simple fact that he doesn't want to leave the people of the city to the tender mercies of the other Orders who ignored their vows when they want to and lead a life of debauchery. However every time someone fights back to them, they would use their status as knights to either execute the person on the spot or beat him or her and leave. The guards can't stop them, they're knights after all. It would take a knight to stop a knight. Harrold made sure the Templar kept the peace until the fall of the city.

However right now looking at the two exotic women. Harrold's mind for a moment lost all thoughts of sense and honor as he openly drooled on them. He'd never seen such beauties like that before and that would be saying something really if based on his experience.

If he was at his right mind though, he would have stayed away normally. The two exotic beauties in front of him are scantily clad in their armor to the point of vulgar, women that Harrold would have slit himself on the throat first rather than talking the first time in his life, is enamored.

The older who is right now helping the younger one stand had green hair with streaks of sky blue that fell to her butt. Unlike the women at his old home, her hair is messy and even had leaves on it. However her face looked exotingly lovely to look at despite the glowing silver-hue eyes which had a steel on them, the proof that this woman is a warrior and had seen men and women die. Her skin is the deepest shade of somewhere between violet and blue looking like it is bathed in old glistened on the afternoon sun. It didn't help that the graceful armor she is wearing only covered her shoulders, her chest which hugged her breasts quite treasonously if the size of it jutting out is not proof enough, and her crotch with a loincloth to cover the armor there showing off nearly everything else. The tattoos on her eyes and the small circlet with a crescent moon on her head made her even look more beautiful. Her body is obviously worship-worthy and Harrold despite his honor and oaths are unable to pull his eyes away from her alluring curves that hooked him like a starving fish,

Her companion had the same attire as her, the only difference is that her eyes still had the innocent circular look on it that teenagers have that had not seen Death face to face. Unlike her older companion, her hair only reached her shoulders colored a bright neon and she had no tattoos on her face like the one that Harrold is enamored with. Her skin is also dusty purple and pink with a violet tinge, nothing like the other one.

The Grandmaster of the Templar Order would have approached them already and oaths be damned, get to know the green-haired one if not for the elongated sharp ears these two women had that immediately marked them as not humans. Though in Harrold's opinion, it only made them look good even he is fighting off the urge to take a nibble on the pointy end of his new crush.

 _"Fandu-Dath Belore,"_ the musical voice of the green-haired one snapped Harrold out of his thoughts and he immediately loathed himself for thinking of such things. Making a mental note to make a penance for his lust the moment he got himself back to camp, he nearly missed his squire's words pointed at him.

"Sir, what are they? And what is she talking about?" asked Colin, his hand gripping his knife on the belt.

"At ease Colin," ordered Harrold though he himself are nervous as he stared at the two women who looked ready to bolt staring at them, stories of witches, demons and warlocks that the priests are preaching at the temples filling his head. Still, he's going to heed the words he ordered the Ponce about meeting new species. Not that he can raise his sword against a beautiful woman...or whatever the hell these things are.

He didn't miss the green-haired one's hand not leaving her bow with an arrow knocked into it. With the easiness that she is handling it, Harrold would bet his sword that she can draw and fire in a heartbeat.

 _"Fandu-Dath Belore,"_ repeated the green-haired one though this time Harrold could hear annoyance on her tone.

"What are they talking about sir?" Colin asked again at him.

"No idea," muttered Harrold pulling his long sword out of the ground just in case. "Maybe you could try pantomiming,"

"Me sir?" squawked the young boy immediately blushing to the roots of his hair as he glanced at the two scantily clad beauties.

"Yes, you're good at pantomiming. Now go and tell them, we are friends and not enemies," nudged Harrold to the nervous kid.

"Okay, okay. Yes sir," stuttered Colin stepping slowly towards the two breathing deeply.

"Me!" Colin indicated his self approaching closer to the two.

"No!" he waved his finger back and forth, Harrold resisted the urge to face-palm himself,

"enemy!" this time he almost dived at the river in shame as his squire made monster faces at the two making the younger one squeak and hide at the green one's back as the other one's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Apparently Colin noticed this too for he immediately acted again.

"Me!" he indicated the same action as before.

"Friend!" he made a hugging gesture to the green-haired woman and unfortunately this time, he obviously indicated the wrong action for the beautiful woman who is close enough for contact immediately kicked him on the nuts with thunderous force,

Even Harrold clutched his jewels protectively as his squire exhaled all the Helium that he had on his lungs as he crashed moaning in pain at the forest floor.

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 _"Where is Malfurion when you need him?"_ Tyrande mentally mourned as the offending person went down like a sack of potatoes in front of her. What she would give to have the Arch-Druid and her ex-suitor at her side right now. Unlike her, he could communicate to outsiders than she ever could. Tyrande's policy about unwanted visitors after all is "shoot a little; then ask,". And these people covered in plate in her opinion are very unwanted. This is her personal island. How dare they trespass here?

She had been badly offended by the young one writhing on the ground right now when he made the gesture of hugging her. Who in their right mind would ask for a woman not mated for physical contact in such a lecherous way? Her opinion on the two which had been rather high when they took down the Furbolg went plummeting down after their failure to establish communication with her.

"My lady, are they males?" whispered Arko'Narin at her back, making Tyrande look at the young Night Elf looking quite curiously with her big doe like eyes peering at the two well, she had no idea what they were.

"Yes, Arko they are," responded Tyrande before drawing in a heartbeat her bow pointing at the warrior who killed the Furbolg as she heard him take a step forward.

The priestess of Elune if truth be told are incredibly reluctant on fighting him for a couple of reasons. The first and foremost is the fact that he just took down a mad Furbolg with nothing more than that pointy thing with a little help. While Night Elven Sentinels can take down the beasts without much trouble all the time. It takes a hunting party at least of five in order for it to succeed without much risk. Yet this person had brought down one with that overlarge sword of his. She'd never seen a weapon like it in her long years of life. Sure he may had their help, but the fact remains still that he did all hard work. Fighting something as fierce as that is not exactly high on the Night Elf's to-do-list for the day.

And second reason is that either she liked it or not, he just saved Arko'Narin whom Tyrande cared more than a normal apprentice or master relationship. She almost became a surrogate mother for the orphaned elf, being there for her ever since she was young. Intervening from the possible death that her student might have gotten if he did not jump between her and the Furbolg, he accidentally put Tyrande in debt with him for Arko's sake. And Tyrande always pays her debts.

And a small part of her can't help but admire him. It is plain obvious that he had no idea what they are judging from:

A.) The difference between their languages

B.) The confusion of his eyes when he saw her ears.

He immediately began speaking to her in his own language which in Tyrande's opinion is a little rough compared to the dialect of her people as he take another step forward in her direction.

"Tyra I'm scared," whimpered Arko' behind her, the Night Elf priestess not even recognizing the fact that she had taken a step back as the armored figure took another step forward. "Please! Can we go home? What are they?"

"Not yet," Tyrande gritted her teeth as the tensing of her arms on her bow strengthened when he drew the long blade that he had used to kill the Furbolg from his back, its blade and edges still stained with its black blood.

 _"That thing could cut me in half in on blow,"_ thought Tyrande as she stepped back even further to avoid the length of the blade. She nearly jumped in surprise though when he threw the weapon at her feet, the heavy blade clanking on the ground. He did the same with the sword at his side that he pulled from his belt and also a dagger before raising his hand indicating that he had nothing left.

 _"What is he doing?"_ thought Tyrande as he approached them again softly making soothing sounds on his own language. _"Is he so stupid on dropping his weapons? Or is this a gesture that he doesn't want to fight? Aarrrgh! Furion! The moment you wake up from your sleep, I'm going to beat you for not being here when I need you the most!"_ cursed Tyrande mentally before finally lowering her bow. She didn't miss the relieved relaxing of the person's limbs as her weapon went down.

"My lady, what are you doing?" asked Arko' nervously at her looking at her relaxed stance.

"He does not want to fight," spoke Tyrande looking at the armored figure who seemed to be fumbling for something at the back of his neck. "At least I don't think so," she added. Tyrande won't place it past an outsider not to stab her on the back after she put her defenses down.

However all her thoughts about backstabbing and treacherous people immediately went flying down the proverbial window as the person removed his rounded helmet revealing the most handsome face she had ever seen. Much, much more handsome than her previous suitor.

 _"By Elune,"_ thought Tyrande gasping inwardly as she for the first time in many millennia gazed at another male. Ever since the men have went to sleep on their Barrow-Dens to join the Emerald Dream, Tyrande almost forgot what they look like. It didn't help that her student gargled like a drowning fish when she saw for the first time a representative of a male specimen which in Tyrande's opinion is a good example at the moment.

He had jet black hair with streaks of gray that must have come from stress that is wildly unkempt. His face is stern and proud, proof that he is a leader of some sort. His ears are rounded unlike hers and Arko's for some reason. His nose well-looked a bit crooked like someone had punched him and broken it. A long scar adored his right temple to his right jawline making the priestess of Elune guess that a dagger had wounded him there. However the most alluring that the moon Priestess found on this person is his eyes. He had the most green she had ever seen. Greener than even some of the Druids that served on Cenarion's inner circle. She found herself drowning in on them unconsciously. They had a kindness in them, but also steel and sorrow. Who and what is this man?

She was too busy contemplating that she nearly missed the sudden flash of light that came from his right hand. Arko' screamed without warning and even Tyrande cursed as she backpedaled, nearly barreling her student as the silver light hit her straight in the face.

Immediately the Night Elf felt dizzy as her brain seemed to turn to mush and she got the most horrible headache she ever had as she lost her balance and crashed to her side and before Tyrande knew it, vomit her entire lunch and breakfast this day on the ground as the pounding on her head grew. She barely acknowledged her student screaming her name in fear and worry at the background before it was followed by a yell of fury.

"Arko," Tyrande moaned weakly struggling on all fours to stand up as she leveled her blurry eyes to her student who had her knife drawn and are attacking the male with such ferocity, tears dangling from her eyes while she shouted profanities so colorful that Tyrande made a mental note to herself to wash her student's mouth later with soap on the nearest moonwell she could find.

"Stop goddamn it!" cursed the male as he dodged Arko' again using his greaves to block the more faster and agile elf who danced around him, trying to find a hole on his defense. Tyrande coughed as she finally got her legs under her, her body swaying precariously as she leaned on a rock. She might have been proud of her student's skills if not her worry and pounding head as she watched the male study Arko's movements before blocking her next thrust before binding her knife arm to her back as he pulled her body to his with her back pressed on his armor while his other arm held her neck.

Red immediately filled Tyrande's eyes seeing her student so molested. How dare he touched her student? The Night Elf priestess ran or to be more exact wobble in a zigzag manner towards them nearly falling again in the process if not for the male letting go of her student by pushing her smaller frame off of him before running towards her direction and catching her as she felt herself lost her balance and face plant to the ground.

"You women are a nasty piece of work you know that?" his voice laced in annoyance and amusement was registered by her long ears.

Immediately Tyrande froze like a statue as her blood turned cold. For a moment her brain resisted the fact that what she heard, she just heard. Her ears insisted that the sound it heard do not belong to her imagination, but real. She can understand him.

"What? How?" Tyrande can't help but look at those beautiful green eyes which is filled with amusement at her broken words.

"Magic," he said simply with a cheerful voice not noticing that the gorgeous Night Elf woman in her arms looked alarmed as an elf ever could be.

"Arcane?" It took all of Tyrande's self-control not to panic. Night Elves didn't essentially hate magic, but they do hate Arcane Users that created the Sundering during their war against the Highborn.

His eyebrows merely rose in a questioning manner. "Is that what you call magic here?"

Tyrande had no idea how to answer. The magic arts isn't especially her specialty. That field belongs more to Malfurion and Illidan, her childhood friends. Sure she had seen all kinds of magic, Azeroth is literally full of it. Even the servants of the Temple have their own brand of magic to be used either in purifying things, healing or fighting. Ashenvale itself is a forest filled with the power of magic thanks to Cenarius' presence in the vicinity and the presence of the Night Elves themselves. Still, that doesn't mean that this person isn't dangerous.

Sparing a glance at the person again, Tyrande knew more than enough on that single glance that this is someone not to be trifled with. She may not be a bigot about outsiders like some of her kin, but Tyrande is not that trusting of strangers too. In fact if truth be told, she's downright suspicious of them. However something tells her that this stranger right now is not someone she would want to raise her bow against.

"What did you do to me?" Tyrande finally surrendered to her curiosity. It was better that she dig a little information about him before picking a fight.

"What do you mean?"

"Why can I understand you when a few minutes I can't?" asked the Priestess.

"Oh, that." he actually laughed rubbing his hands on the back of his head sheepishly. "That's a simple translation spell. Makes the words that come out of your mind understandable in my language and vice versa. I had no idea though why you reacted the way you did. It's essentially harmless and ...painless. Sorry about that by the way, I didn't expect that would happen,"

"GET OFF HER!"

"Wha-?" the male magic practitioner barely finished the word before a blur of violet and pale pink suddenly tackled him out of nowhere making Tyrande gasp in alarm as she suddenly fell at the ground. She had completely forgotten that he had been holding her while they are talking. Oh Arko', won't let her live that down.

Now with most of her senses returning and the headache almost non-existent, Tyrande stood with catlike grace as she tried to look at her apprentice and the she saw would have been funny then if not for the fact that her neon-haired apprentice are snarling like a demented frost saber as she tried to claw the stranger's eyes with her fingernails.

"How dare you touch my lady?" snarled Arko' her fangs showing through her lips as she tried to literally beat the male stranger in any way she can. "Nobody hurts her without going through me first!"

"Arko stop!" Tyrande tried to call out in warning as a red light flashed suddenly from the stranger's hands nearly hitting her student who moved her head off as the two continued rolling on the dirt.

"Get this girl off me!" hissed the green-eyed stranger at her and it was painfully obvious that he is doing his best not to fight back her student attacks.

Moving in catlike grace, Tyrande leaped at their side grabbing Arko' by her bare midriff as the younger elf still kicked and clawed at the stranger who is supporting a black eye on his left.

"By Elune Arko! Enough already!" shouted the priestess yanking away her student whom she noticed had tears on her eyes. Immediately her heart melted. How much courage did Arko' muster to force herself to attack that man?

"Arko' enough. Enough," repeated Tyrande pulling the shorter elf to her bosom who immediately cried softly as Tyrande encircled her arms around her student who continued sobbing, ignoring the fact that Arko' is covered in grime and mud with leaves sticking on her hair.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," repeated the young elf while Tyrande just caressed her hair.

"God that hurts," moaned the stranger making Tyrande glare at him as he approached them making Arko' press closer to her. "I didn't attack her if it makes you feel better," he added seeing her trying to stab him with her eyes.

"You tried using a spell on her," pointed out the priestess with a hiss not forgetting the pain that she endured when he hit her.

He merely waved it off as he dusted his chain mail, wincing a bit at the wound made the Furbolg there. He had some scratches on his face other than the black eye and a busted lip from his and Arko's fight

"My lady what are you two talking about?" asked Arko in confusion. "And how can you understand him?"

"Later Arko," promised Tyrande looking at her before staring back at the male who is keeping a reasonable distance away trying and failing not to oggle their bodies.

Despite herself, Tyrande can't help but be flattered. She had almost forgotten how she affected the opposite sex. To see the flush on his face, she can't help but take pleasure at the affect her very person is having on him. Still, better rectify the situation before something again will offer another chance that they would come into blows.

"I'm Tyrande Whisperwind, Priestess of Elune and Sentinel Commander and this is my student Arko'Narin, a Sentinel in training," introduced the Priestess. "We are KalDorei from Mooglade. Who and what are you?"

"Well, I'm Harrold James Potter, Grandmaster of the High Templar Order and the fellow still knocked out on the grass is my squire Colin Creevey. We are exiles from Acre and Jerusalem. We are humans I guess," said the male making Tyrande blink.

"Grandmaster? Templar Order? Acre? Jerusalem? Human? What are those?" asked Tyrande.

She didn't miss the "human" flinch within himself before muttering to himself something like. "I should have expected this,"

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 **So I think that's that. Thank you for those who reviewed my story. I really appreciate it. By the way. Is it normal to have so little reviews? I mean just twenty-five? I checked Cassie's Newcomers review and it reached sixty on chapter one only. Is my story that bad? I'm sorry if it is. It is my first one. By the way how is it? Hope you like the fight scenes. I'm going to add more HP characters later like Ced and Fleur.**

 **PS: Don't flirt with me! I hate it! And by the way, Ill never tell you my FB address so piss off! Im just a writer here! Not looking for a boyfriend!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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Sir Draconius Esteban Malfoy nee Gregory the second chance of the blonde Ponce of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy; massaged his head for the hundredth time resisting the urge to swipe it over his blonde hair. As tired and bone-weary he is right now, he'll rather saw his own foot than damage his waxed-perfectly combed hair. Damn his future life for being obsessed over such trivialities.

Born as the second son of Hofftrag Gregory of Spain, a local lord which owned one of the more "argued" cocaine plantations. Draco had always been the spare while his arrogant ponce of a brother is the heir. Of course being wise enough to know that his future would be ruined with the black dealings of his family once exposed (which he is certain that would happen with his idiot brother unable to keep a secret once he's lord), Draco renounced his name and joined the Crusade as one of lord Balian's squire, the lord of Ibelyn. With his outstanding education both in his past life and present, and being trained by his father to be one of the best liars, Draco quickly rose through the ranks to be the official scribe of the Templars once he's knighted. With all his wit and cunning guile though on aiding the Grandmaster Harrold on his personal crusade to protect the lesser folk of the world, Draco had not been spared when he met the executioner's axe when the city of Acre has fallen.

Even on his second or third chance, he can still remember the blasted thing slicing his neck.

Rubbing the aforementioned part of his anatomy that shared the pleasure of the Executioner's axe, Draco can't help but grimace as he focused his attention on the small mountain of paperwork and ledgers that filled the desk of his commandeered tent. Being the scribe of the Templars had its perks after all.

As much as he's annoyed of the job of being the scribe and secretary at the same time, Draco can't help but both hate and love it. Paperwork maybe a major liability for those in power, but once endured, can be a great asset. Being the one in charge of all this gives Draco an inherent knowledge of everything with very little passing his inquisitive eyes.

However right now, let's just say that the reports he is getting is daunting. Not bad, just daunting.

Thirty thousand men and women are currently under his watch waiting for him being second-in-command, the same as Neville, which is Harrold's heir in case he got himself killed with his scouting expeditions. Draco had his work cut out for him.

He leaned back on his chair as he mentally arrayed the leaders of the people that are given a second chance.

Right now there are currently four knight orders with them which can be "fully trusted" according to Harrold. The Templars which is his knight order able to field six hundred knights at the moment. The Hospitallers which had a number of eight hundred. The Black Knights who are the champions of justice in their previous lives before they are burnt for being "picky" by the corrupt kings. Right now though they can number two hundred. And the last is the fabled Green capes of the Teutonic Knights which are numbered in two thousand. The rest of the knights are either Orderless or simply confused about why they are reborn here.

As trusting as Harrold though, Draco did not like it without keeping an eye first at their banner men. Sure their Grandmaster had never left them down yet other than the final stand at Acre where thirty men held a force of two thousand on an alleyway, only to be betrayed by a fat merchant who let the enemy at the back of his store so that they would not "ruin his goods" but he would keep an open eye all the same.

However right now, he only trusted the people that he knew in his previous life being the blonde ponce. Currently they number only eight. First and foremost of course is his grandmaster, Harrold Potter, then Neville Longbottom the Templar Heir, Fred and George Weasley members of the Knights Hospitaller who wanted to change their last name to Walters or "Weadley" to make it sound more manly, Cedric Diggory, the heir of the Teutonic Knights, Daphne Greengrass the spymaster, and Fleur Delacour, the leader of the Rangers.

"My lord!"

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin to grab his sword as his tent entrance flapped open showing the scout master wearing her usual gray and blacks with knee high boots and long blonde flowing silvery hair. Heaven only knows how she became the spymaster with such an attracting sight. However something is off right now with her, because there is a-.

"Is that a miniature dragon at your neck Fleur?" Draco can't help but ask aloud eyeing the bluish nearly transparent creature curled around the girl's neck.

She only smiled brightly. "Yes, this is Peleus, my magic dragon," she touched the small animal's head who rubbed itself on her palm. "I found a family at the edge of the clearing looking ready to roast him when I intervened and saved his life," she then glared balefully at him. "I thought you ordered the people not to kill anything yet,"

"I did," scowled Draco remembering the meeting before Harrold left. Apparently some of the more hard headed ones still had the guts to disobey orders. He made a mental note to imprison someone the next time something like this occurs. It won't be good if they accidentally set off something on this magical land, not until they can build something that would protect them at least. "Don't worry I'll make an announcement later again to everyone not to kill anything that doesn't try to kill them first. But why are you here anyway Fleur? I suppose that it is not only because of your new friend yes?"

"No, its not," the beautiful gir's face shadowed, her dragon friend purring in an attempt to cheer her. "I came here to ask permission to take a team to find our Grandmaster. It is nearly midnight and the Striders that I posted two miles out on his direction haven't seen any hide or hair of him yet. I fear he is in trouble,"

Draco only snorted. "He's Harrold Fleur, he's always in trouble,"

"So is that a yes?"

The scribe only nodded in affirmation. "And take Sir Diggory with you and as much knights as you needed. Find our Grandmaster and bring him back...dead or alive,"

"He's alive Draco. I knew it," said Fleur comfortingly.

"I wish I could believe that," smiled the scribe ruelly. "I've worried for him ever since I had this position,"

"Awww, is that a bromance I smell Drakey?"

Draco still haven't finished his splutter halfway through when Fleur mockingly bowed and left the tent with a victorious smirk on her lips.

"Damned hot blonde," cursed the Malfoy as he returned to his papers, now with an added worry on his chest.

"By the angels! If that person kept me worrying all the time. At this rate my hair will go gray before I reach sixty," muttered Draco to himself trying and failing to focus on his ledgers.

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Arko'Narin is a simple person loving the simple things in life. She preferred to see the normal things that she wanted to wake up to every time she get off from her bed. The sound of waterfalls beside the glade that she lived in, the sound of birds on the morning, the feeling of the cold air of Ashenvale that did not bother her skin, and the daily face of Tyrande that met her every day to either keep her company or train her.

As a rule she never reacted nicely to what she didn't understand, not that there's many of them. She can still remember the rutting sounds that many of her sisters are making when she one day approached the nearby moonwell to bathe. When she peeked, she nearly went red seeing the Sentinels assigned to guard the glade touching and kissing one another. When she asked Tyrande about this, the older Night Elf merely blushed pink before waving her off telling her that she needed to grow up first before she explained again. Until now, Tyrande haven't told her yet.

But back to the fact, Arko' didn't completely understand why in the world are they bringing the two male "humans" back with them at the temple. She can't help but worry about Tyrande who is right now sitting at the middle of their boat talking to one of them as they sat at the opposite end. Arko' isn't fooled when Tyrande told her to sit at the prow of their small vessel. Despite the initial peace that she and the "human" had made when the fight between Arko' and him are stopped, Tyrande still won't risk her safety and would rather that she take the initial blow if in fact these "humans" are what they say they are.

It's a pity that Arko' can't understand them. She wanted to; but Tyrande vehemently refused to let him hit her with the translation spell since it "hurt" a lot. By Elune, Tyrande is treating her like a child. The young Night Elf is as curious of these metal covered-humanoids as she is wary. She's going to ask Tyrande again once they got a moment and once she's finished rowing this damnable boat.

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"You know this ropes isn't necessary right?" Harrold pointed out wiggling the tied bonds around his hand right now, the same as his squire who is sitting at his side.

Right now he is sitting on the most exotic and elegant boat that he has ever seen despite its small size. Back at Acre, ships and boats are mostly crude in their designs, mostly built to withstand the harsh storms that the journey between the port of Acre and Mereesa to Jerusalem or for war.

In fact Harrold would have called what they have now a date if not for the sleeping squire at his back and the student of Tyrande rowing the boat at her side. He had it all complete right now. An insanely gorgeous girl on scantily clad armor within reach in front of him, beautiful moon and night sky with stars. And a boat. What better time to make love? Neville would have laughed at him once he got wind that Harrold did not even tried to flirt.

He had agreed to come with Tyrande after their introductions to their leader to establish "peace negotiations". Unfortunately that negotiations included a rope on his wrists though thankfully she didn't take his weapons away.

The beautiful Night Elf woman in front of him merely scowled darkly at his question though it didn't lessen her beauty one bit. "I've already told you human that it is for your own protection. My people are highly distrustful of outsiders, especially talking ones and if what you say is true that you had brought thirty thousand with you, the others won't take it well. My people have lived in solitude ever since the Great Vigil started for thousands of years keeping our homeland safe. Many won't like your presence and with it, the changes you might bring into our way of living. They would rather see you destroyed before you ever became a threat. Only the High Priestess can stop that from happening and prevent a possible fight between our peoples and stop the useless loss of life,"

"Great Vigil? What is that? And you really think of me highly don't you?" chuckled Harrold as he moved his bound arms on a more relaxed position making sure not to wake up his squire who had fallen asleep while sitting. "I mean how could little old me ever stand up against someone like you?"

To her credit, Tyrande only gave him a wry smile. "You've taken down a Furbolg alone. It would take usually five of us to take one down,"

"Ah so that's what it's called. And I didn't exactly take it down alone. I had you to help me right? And the arrow of your student and the crossbow bolt of my squire," pointed out Harrold.

"Be it as it may human," Tyrande waved him off. "Great deeds are recognized and your modesty about it on denial makes you look like a fool. I've seen you fight that thing. And I've seen you take it down alone. And don't deny it!" she cut off quickly as Harrold opened his mouth to protest.

"Alright, alright," Harrold raised his bound hand in surrender. "But that doesn't mean that I can also appreciate your skills. In my entire life I've fought different kinds of people from the frozen wastelands of my home to the beaches of the shore and the barren hot deserts. All of them have diverse fighting style, every group, every tribe. I've seen them all but I've never seen anyone fight so graceful and elegant as you do,"

"Graceful and elegant?" the Priestess rose an eyebrow.

"Well, it might also be called flexible but yeah, graceful and elegant. Even some of the best agile warriors I knew couldn't fight like that. I can barely keep up with you when we fought,"

"Still, that doesn't mean that I'd rather fight you if I can help it," spoke Tyrande looking at the distance where the open waters lie. "If the men you brought are half as good as you are, losses between our people are unavoidable. I do not doubt my race's fighting skills human. But I never ever underestimate a potential enemy. If I am right basing on you alone. Your people have the better equipment, better armor and discipline with the way your squire respects you. One swing of that overlarge pointy stick that you used to kill the Furbolg would cut any of us in half on one swing,"

"That's a bit overexaggerating isn't it?" to his surprise, Tyrande only laughed, her voice tinkling like crystal bells. Harrold instantly loved the sound of it.

"Don't coddle me human. We are barely covered as it is by our own armor. Tell me Harrold, do you really think that I would not be disemboweled if you cut me with that thing?" she gestured to his sword and then to her own scantily clad attire making the Grandmaster bite his cheek to control his blush as he got a good view of her body. He is immediately thankful that "little Harrold" down below is covered with his chain mail and leathers else he would have been thrown overboard by Tyrande for it making its presence known.

"Well uhh, I don't know," lied Harrold trying hard to focus at her face and not her breasts.

"Is there something wrong human?" asked Tyrande quite confused at his reaction.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," the Grandmaster of the Templar Order was suddenly horrified at how high his voice sounded.

"I don't want another war. Not that I've barely survived my first one. And I certainly don't want my sisters to suffer what I have suffered," Tyrande spoke morosely.

That thankfully snapped Harrold out of his daze.

"Sisters? How many?"

"I meant my people human," answered Tyrande with a small smile at his direction. "The Night Elves right now are composed of all females since the males have went to err..hibernation,"

"I-I see," blinked the Templar. He can't help but imagine a place with thousands of beauties like Tyrande without husbands. Its almost impossible to think that no male have come to claim treasures such as this. Harrold would bet his sword that if he is still at his old world, men would clamber over one another in haste if they ever heard of such a place.

"You're bleeding,"

"What?!"

The KalDorei merely growled ferally. "Your wound, the one you received from the bear. It's bleeding again," she said looking at his side which is throbbing now that she mentioned it. Harrold had no idea why, but it seems that taking off to sea had inflamed the scabs that he put there before he agreed on going with her.

"Don't worry, I'll handle this one," spoke Harrold trying to cover the wound with his chain mail and padded leather beneath to keep the blood from rivuleting down the boat.

"No!" snapped Tyrande. "I'll handle this one Harrold. Lay down at my lap and I'll fix it," she commanded sternly patting her lap.

The Templar Grandmaster had no idea what made his cheeks heat up. The fact that she had called him by his name for the first time or the fact that he just got a clear invitation on laying down on the sexy mile long luscious legs that he had ever seen.

"I-I think that would be a very bad idea," stammered Harrold nearly stumbling as he backed off from her on his seat. "I am a Knight my lady. I, well I ahem... It's in my code of ethics not to touch a lady like yourself in a malicious way," he finally stated.

Harrold never knew anyone could do it successfully, but Tyrande's eyebrows literally disappeared at the top of her long hair as her silver eyes widened in surprise. He can't help but fidget his foot back and forth as silence permeated the area and finally the KalDorei woman covered her lips and burst into uncontrolled giggling followed by the demands of her younger companion, obviously asking what she is laughing about.

 _"Great, now I'm a laughingstock,"_ thought Harrold to herself as the two whispered among one another before the younger one too burst into her own set of giggles making the back of the Templar Grandmaster's ears heat up at their reactions.

Tyrande must have taken pity for him, for she regained control of herself after a few minutes. "Not to insult your uhmm...code, human. But I didn't mean anything "malicious"," she specifically stressed the word. "By my invitation. I'm intending to help you and the only way I can, is if you lay yourself at my lap. I promise that it will not hurt...much,"

 _"So it's back to human now,"_ Harrold mentally mourned as he willed his limbs to move towards her. He really wanted to tell her that he is not worried about her doing something malicious to him, but rather he thinking something malicious about her. Why did she have to be so damned beautiful anyway?

Carefully following her instructions, Harrold gingerly as possible laid down his head at her legs. Immediately the smell of nature pervaded his senses and he nearly moaned in pleasure feeling the nape of his neck made contact with her bare skin. Being a Knight that kept his oaths, Harrold had very little contact with a woman's skin. The best he had was with his wet nurse since his mother died, and he can barely even remember that. As for Tyrande, she is warm, too warm and soft. More warmer than the normal human.

"Now lay at your side human so I can get a look at those scratches," ordered Tyrande in an amused tone, obviously aware of how stiff his body is as he lay there.

Harrold complied trying not to look at Arko's face who looked as if Harrold had just ripped her favorite teddy bear's toy, burned it and returned it to her to gloat. Following Tyrande's orders, Harrold moved at his side getting a perfect view of Tyrande's bare navel. He'd never seen anything so well...kiss-worthy skin. She had some abs, but only a little, proof that she is a fighter but also maintaining her beauty as a woman. "Little Harry" is struggling with all its might to pop out in his pants and Harrold fervently prayed that Tyrande won't notice the struggle on his breeches. He could feel her fingers moving the chain mail aside and leather as she checked the wound gently.

"It's ugly alright," said Tyrande and Harrold knew that her face is grimacing from above him. "It would be painful for you if I work with it and you need to sleep else you'll faint,"

"What?!" snapped Harrold nearly standing up if he's not worried that his head will hit her bosom as she leaned on his wound shadowing his face with her body, her skin an inch from the tip of his nose as she examined it even more.

"It's really deep, and don't worry. I do not plan to throw you overboard," chuckled Tyrande unaware of the effect she is having at the young man who is sweating bullets, the urge to touch her body rising. "Now listen to my voice,"

"Voice?" squeaked Harrold too late as he then heard the most beautiful music his ears had heard until now.

 _"O drasi_

 _Si Nashanoi_

 _Quel'dorei_

 _Nordrassill_

 _Eoplei matodei_

 _Anu ratore_

 _A-a-a-a Essi-i-i_

 _Selunorei_

 _Si, oshanorei_

 _Si, shanodo_

 _A-a-a-a A-a-a-a-a_

 _A-a-a-a Essi-i"_

Despite his efforts on keeping his eyes open, the Grandmaster of the Templar Order felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second. The last thing that he saw before Oblivion was the beautiful face of the singer, looking at her with those beautiful silver-blue eyes.

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Tyrande watched silently as she finished the last of her song, her patient drifting off as he then shamelessly nuzzled the skin on her stomach making the Night Elf giggle as the "knight" laid a small kiss there before snoring off.

Despite her wariness about this person because of the strength and the power that he is wielding, Tyrande can't help but be curious about him. Everything about him is different. From the color of skin, to the way he dresses, and to the way he wields his weapon. Heck, even the way that his hair is cut intrigued the Night Elven Priestess.

"You like him don't you my lady?" the neutral voice of her student spoke a bit accusingly making Tyrande look at her not surprised that she is scowling.

"I don't Arko'. I just find him fascinating. It's not everyday that we get to meet a different kind of people that don't want to kill us," said Tyrande looking back at her sleeping patient before taking one of the leaves that is attached to her armor, crushing it on her palm. The feeling of its sap immediately made itself well known on her skin and Tyrande pressed her hand on the wound muttering the healing incantation that Priestesses learn on the temple.

"We should dump them overboard my lady. They are a danger to us and our people," said Arko' morosely. "It's better that we get rid of them now than they turn against us later,"

"Don't tell me you believed that Arko'," Tyrande replied looking quite shocked of the coldness of her beloved student. "This person saved your life. He risked his so that you can live. If he didn't interfere Arko', that Furbolg would be munching on your guts on the forest floor right now. At least have some decency on the one that saved you,"

"Don't you think I don't know that?!" hissed the younger elf. "I'm not saying that I'm not grateful, for I know that I am. I'm worried about what will they bring to our world Tyra! I'm worried that they might turn against us like the stories you told me about Neltharion who betrayed the other Aspects, acting like he cared at first before crippling them all with one betrayal. I don't want to see you get killed Tyra! This person alone almost defeated you, one of the very best of those who fought against Azshara. How would we fare if we have to deal with thirty thousand more of them.? We would be slaughtered Tyra and I, I don't want that. By Elune, I don't want that,"

Tyrande remained silent and impassive as she let her apprentice pour her heart out. Now she knew why Arko' was acting like this. Arko' may not know it, but Tyrande have always knew how to read her emotions like a book.

Sighing to herself, the moon priestess made sure that the paste is drying correctly at Harrold's wounds before placing the human back to the side of his squire gently still sleeping. Once secured, Tyrande went and bent down to kneel looking at the fearful face of her student who had stopped rowing,

"You're afraid," she stated simply.

Arko' only raised her head up to her before nodding slowly in affirmation at the Priestess' words.

"You're not afraid of them Arko'. You're afraid of what might happen because of their presence. I know that deep inside, you are as intrigued as I am about them. Do not entertain such negative thoughts Arko'. If they wanted us dead, they would have left you to die already at the hands of that Furbolg and they would never have agreed to be tied up to be brought before the High Priestess,"

"But that isn't a guarantee that they would not betray us Tyra," pointed out the younger elf. "What would we do if they do turn their swords against us?"

Tyrande only sighed tiredly. As much as she hated to admit it, Arko' had some valid points. One of the most loathful things that her people hate is treason. That fear has exponentially tripled during the first war, the betrayal of the Highborne and finally the betrayal of Neltharion. If these "human" species became a traitor in some way, Tyrande would be the one held accountable since she had been the one who made the decision to initiate first contact between Night Elven leadership and "human". She would be drawn, quartered and executed, if that ever happen. Arko' only worried for her, and Tyrande understand that. In fact it warmed her heart that the young elf cared for her that much.

"Don't worry Arko'. We'll be careful and keep an eye on them if they ever turn traitor," reassured Tyrande before smirking to her protege. "Besides Arko', how do you think I would feel if I just dump such a glorious example of a fine specimen overboard without letting our sisters enjoy it first? You know that many of them will "appreciate" our guest,"

Arko's reddening face didn't fail to make Tyrande laugh as she returned sitting to watch their two "prisoners". Looking at the face of the sleeping knight, Tyrande can't help but wonder if he indeed is the enemy. Something inside her is telling that this "human" would affect not only the entire Night Elven race, but her most of all.

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Cedric Matthias Diggory, second life of the Hufflepuff champion, Cedric Diggory cursed again beneath his breath as he nearly lost the three scouts in front of him for the third time. He can't believe that despite the obvious color of the blonde hair of the Scout Commander, Fleur Delacour on the forests around them; he still managed to lost sight of the three riders who are looking for signs of the Grandmaster's trail.

He had been at the moment of finding his bedroll and take a well-deserved nap for organizing the largest Order they currently have when he was rudely pulled by the pretty blonde out of his stupor and told to find ten men with him and ride. Now with full armor and regalia of his ten best men of the Teutonic Knights, Cedric can't help but feel like a drunken ballerina on a battlefield as he and his men rode behind the scouts keeping an eye on them as they tried to search for their lost Grandmaster in the middle of the night.

Stopping his horse as he saw the three scouts poring over another patch of dirt, their gray and green cloaks nearly making them invisible on the naked eye, Cedric can't help but let off a large yawn as he slumped tiredly on his horse the same as his men.

Everywhere around him is dark, the island is dark and gloomy with all the trees though the world around him is brighter thanks to the stars shining brightly on the sky. How different is this place on Earth. Back at the old planet, the stars can barely be seen at all.

"They passed this way," Fleur's voice stopped him from nearly drooping off.

"What?" mumbled Cedric tiredly.

The blonde in front of him merely scowled through her hood. "The Grandmaster and his squire, they passed this way. If I'm right, they're heading on the river nearby. They might have stopped for water and that is the only logical place they can go anyway,"

"Lead on boss," yawned Cedric again barely acknowledging Fleur as the woman effortlessly rode on her own horse followed by the two scouts before riding off, nearly leaving them behind again.

The next hour is a blur for Cedric then. All he could remember on that ride was the image of tree after tree as they followed the scouts on barely seen dirt paths that without them, him and his knights would have lost already with all the zigzagging they were making. He remembered stopping at a river, listening to Fleur identify a rotting corpse of some kind of bear killed by a longsword and a crossbow bolt. He remembered riding again, following the agile scout leader until he finally reached the edge of a beach after an hour.

"They left the area," Fleur's voice sounded depressed.

"Whazzit? Yu Zaid?" mumbled Cedric nearly knocked out in tiredness on his steed.

"They're not alone," spoke the blonde, her hair flying on the winds of the shore with her cowl down. "They met someone and they left the island taking a ship,"

"I see," replied Cedric barely coherent as he almost had fallen asleep on his saddle.

"We need to go after them. Sir Diggory, we need to build a boat,"

"What?!"

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 **Alright. So that's that. Anyway thanks readers for the well, I guess support. Please Fav and Review. I've tried reading Warcraft Lore by the way and before I forgot, the time of my story is before Orgrim Doomhammer died. Someone told me that the Aspects would get involved for some reason. I just don't know how. And by the way, is Nordassil built on the same time as Teldrassil? hihi Need a little help, Warcraft supporters.**

 **The Romance between Harrold and Tyrande isn't starting yet. Sure there is an attraction between the two. Harrold found Tyrande hot and sexy, and he respected her for her skills but no more than that. Tyrande finds Harrold intriguing and handsome and that's all. Sure she might flirt a bit, but that's expected. She had never seen a male ever since the start of the Long Vigil after all. As for who gave the knights a second chance? Well that's a mystery for now isn't it? hihihihi**

 **PS: Many told me that my friends work on Newcomers is "shit". For my friend's sake, I've read the story and found it interesting. I don't understand what is wrong with it other than her grammatical error? Anyone please clear it to me?**

 **And for the last time! I'm not giving up my FB Account! Don't review also if all you can review are insults or languages that I can't understand.**

 **Yes, reminder. I never owned any of the previous stories. This is my first one. All those stories belong to Cassie and Cassie alone.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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Tyrande is no fool. She expected that they won't be welcome with open arms by the residents of Darkshore, especially with the fact that these "humans" are armed to the teeth. Her people have always mistrusted those that did not belong to their race ever since the sundering and many millennia since the start of the Long Vigil have not dampened that mistrust. In fact if her opinion is to be questioned, she might even say that that paranoia had even grown to higher heights. That's why she had her two new acquaintances bound by their wrists though she got Harrold's promise that they mean no harm. It is much a protection for them than a protection for her people. However not even Tyrade expected that the greeting that they would receive from harbor master and the sentinels would be this bad the moment their little boat got within view of the first people of the dock.

"Halt!"

"Trespassers!"

"It's outsiders! We are going to die!"

"Get a message to the High Priestess, we have an invasion coming in!"

"Kill them!"

"Kill them now!"

Nearly every one of her kin are running around like headless chickens in all directions with no one trying to gain any semblance of control. The harbor master who had cried for the Sentinels to arm have been jostled out of the dock by one of the random civilians and are currently spluttering on the water. She could see her old friend Shandris trying with ten of her Sentinels get the people under control as everyone seemed to panic. Her two "prisoners" only looked confused as they also observed the pandemonium that their very presence caused at the moment.

"ENOUGH!" the moon priestess' voice snapped like a thunderstorm stopping everyone on their tracks as every eye turned to her direction; including the ones on her boat.

The green-haired Night Elf took a deep breath. There's a good reason that Tyrande had been nominated as a candidate of being the High Priestess of Elune. Other than the fact that she's a warrior and had a close connection with the goddess, she is also a leader and a damn good one at that.

"Everyone calm down!" shouted Tyrande at the people on the shore. "These people do not mean any of us any harm. I'll vouch personally for them. Stop panicking. They are simply here to be brought in audience to the High Priestess Alleia and we are simply passing through,"

"Then why are they bound like prisoners Priestess?" demanded the Harbor Master who had finally gotten herself out of the water still dripping.

"To prevent a panic like everyone is currently doing right now," Tyrande answered curtly, patience wearing thin at being delayed. The more she got held up from a possible meeting with High Priestess and Harrold, the greater the chance that one of the more nervous of her people accidentally attack these "humans" and cause a war.

"Now let us pass! The High Priestess demands it," snapped Tyrande gesturing Arko' to row to the shore ignoring the protests of some of the Kaldorei, begging her not to let these outsiders step unto Darkshore Harbor.

"You're taking us to the High Priestess?" whispered Harrold behind her in question. "You never told me anything about that? Is she some kind of religious leader?" he added in a bit of an accusatory tone.

"Yes she is. And she is also the one in charge of ruling the entirety of the Kaldorei that is not asleep now. And as for what happened, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," answered Tyrande watching a nervous looking Night Elf woman throw the ropes to Arko' to tie their boat before bolting off like an arrow back to the crowd. "But she is the only one who can prove formally that you are not a threat to the Kaldorei. Even I didn't expect hostility like this. I had to ask your pardon for my people's reactions human. They didn't mean it. If you knew our history, then you would understand why they acted the way they did,"

"Accpeted. I'm looking forward to see your library then," shrugged Harrold nearly making Tyrande open her mouth to ask what the heck is a "library" but waved it off as another thing that she didn't know about this humans and their words.

"Just don't talk to anyone of them, no matter how loud they may shout," whispered Tyrande as a warning before standing up and climbing to the edge of the harbor after Arko'. She isn't surprised when she immediately met her old friend Shandris Feathermoon with a small smile with her Sentinels behind waiting for her.

"Shandris," nodded Tyrande in greeting to the Sentinel General.

"Priestess Tyrande," replied the blue-haired elf with a bow of her head sparing a glance at the two "prisoners" climbing after Tyrande on the docks. "I've always believed that you would one day do something mind-blowing that will affect our community Tyrande. I never expected that when you left to train young Arko' here at that island of yours, I would see you bring outsiders back here,"

"Neither did I," shrugged Tyrande. "Would you mind accompanying us with your Sentinels to the Moonglade Shandris? These two would require an audience with High Priestess Alleia post haste, and I would rather avoid incidents along the way,"

Shandris' eyebrow only rose at her words. "You could always just command us to do that you know?"

Tyrande despite the seriousness of the situation they are in right now can't help but grin at her childhood friend. "Maybe, but I rather request, rather than obey. Would you prefer if I become as stuk-up as the other priestesses Shandris?"

A snort was the Sentinel's only answer as she returned to address her soldiers leaving a chuckling Tyrande behind who immediately turn to her "prisoners" being either oggled curiously or glared at by the entirety of the female population of Darkshore Harbor. She had to then bite her cheeks to stop herself from sniffling in amusement watching the two nearly being undressed by many of the female's eyes. Harrold managed to retain his proud aura, not looking the least fazed despite the entirety of the eyes based on him, but Colin Creevey looked like a cornered warthog surrounded by wolves with his panicky eyes.

"Follow me," gestured Tyrande at them the moment Shandris returned with her Sentinels, gesturing them to the two. "This is Shandris Feathermoon, the Sentinel General of Ashenvale and a good friend of mine. She and her Sentinels would be the one to escort us to Moonglade,"

Before Tyrande could move however, Harrold immediately stepped towards the Sentinel General making every Sentinel draw their bows as he reached with bound hands to Shandris' left hand and gently raised it to his lips, placing a small kiss there looking at her in the eye.

"Pleasure to meet you my lady," he said in a charming voice that immediately made Tyrande jealous at her friend who blushed at the tone despite not understanding the words. Why had she not been greeted like that when they first met?

"What did he say Tyrande?" asked Shandris looking at her.

Still gritting her teeth, the priestess translated for him. "He says its a pleasure to meet you,"

"Oh," Shandris replied unintelligently, blushing even more much to Tyrande's jealousy. "Well, _Elune Be'Lore_ then I guess," she replied looking at the still smiling boy and in front of everyone, placed a lingering kiss on the knight's lips then much to his shock, Tyrande's and every elf in the vicinity.

Nose fuming for reasons that she did not understand. Tyrande stomped between the two grabbing Harrold's wrist and dragging him off with her in the direction of the Moonglade, ignoring the Sentinels' call to wait and for Colin's cry to bring his master back. Her prisoner is still asking why in the world is she dragging him and why is she not waiting for the others but the Priestess merely tuned his questions all out as she continued stomping in slightly stronger footfalls than she normally would as she stewed on her anger ignoring the looks the other Night Elves are giving her at the moment.

 _"How dare she kiss what is mine?!"_ raged Tyrande, the image of Shandris kissing Harrold repeating on her head again and again.

 _"He belongs to me and me alone! Nobody can claim what is mine!"_ the Priestess mentally swore not even flinching when her toe stubbed on a lose rock and not flinching as the said rock also stubbed the toe of her "prisoner"

Once she calmed down later, she would then wonder at the fact about her thinking. Since when did Harrold belong to her anyway?

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Harrold can't help but march in silence as the world around him darkened. The footfalls of his elven guards barely made a sound on the forest they are walking in making the Templar Grandmaster feel as if he's a three legged bear crashing into the woods compared to them in his half-armor. None of them spoke to him as they continued their trek, not even Tyrande for some reason who is fuming, judging from the slightly reddened skin on the back of her neck which he can see.

As they walked thus, the knight filed slowly along the paths in the wood, led by Tyrande while the other Elves walked behind. Despite his metal boots, he could feel the ground beneath his feet smooth and soft and after that stone, he finally felt no fear of hurt or fall. He could feel the magic around him, from the silent trees to the whispering of the animals who did not run away when the small company passed them.

For Harrold, it seemed as if he had stepped over a bridge of time into a corner of the past of this new world, and are currently walking in the presence of a part of the world that is no more outside its borders. In the Great Hall of the Templar Temple back home in Earth, there is memories of ancient things preserved by the Order for men to learn and to study; in this world, on this forest, the ancient things still lived in the waking world.

Evil had been seen and heard here, sorrow had been known; the Night Elves feared and distrusted the world outside: wolves and other more ghastly creatures were howling on the woods' borders, but on this land, no shadow lay.

There are things here that would have made the Pope back at home froth in his mouth muttering demons and creatures of the Night. Dragons of blue that seemed transparent on the air, flitting like little children on the trees. More Night Elven women who stared at him with the same doe-like innocence as Arko' did. Some of them looked as regal as Queens of Ice while others played like little children among one another, their eyes shining silver, blue and violet on the night. Bodies colored like their names, they are almost the representations of the evening and despite himself, Harrold found them beautiful and graceful. Some waved, some scowled, others panicked (that's his fault for they are bathing shamelessly on a well of some kind with glistening waters), but some approached him and two even had the audacity to steal a kiss giggling much to his guide's chagrin.

There are also Moving trees as tall as he is muttering in a language that he didn't understand and humongous ones that seemed to move with roots as its feet. Harrold swore he saw one eating a tree even. For creatures so large, they are obviously gentle. He nearly awed at the sight of one playing with a small family of foxes, rumbling on a deep tone of its own.

"What is this place?" Harrold finally got the courage to ask as they passed a white pillar.

"This is the heart of Elvendom on Azeroth "human"," said Tyrande smugly to him falling back at his side as more and more pillars of white they passed and Harrold did not miss the abundance of guards at either side. "Welcome to Thylodhel Harrold,"

Immediately the Templar felt as if he he had stepped through a high window that looked on a vanished world. A light was upon it for which his language had no name. All that he saw was shapely, but the shapes seemed at once to clear cut, as sif they had been first conceived and draw at the uncovering of his eyes, and ancient as if they had endured for ever. He saw no colour but those he knew, blue, silver white and green, but they were fresh and poignant, as if he had at the moment perceived them and made for them names new and wonderful, In winter here no heart could mourn for summer or for spring. No blemish or sickness or deformity could be seen in anything that grew upon the Earth. On this place, there was no stain.

"Greetings Harrold James Potter," a gentle voice like that of water falling gently on rock are registered by the Templar's psyche. "I've been expecting you,"

And as fast as the light of confusion came, the same speed it vanished leaving Harrold blinking as he found himself in the middle of a glade looking up at a small hill where the white columns merged over one another. However it was the six people in white sitting on a crescent manner looking at him that caught his attention.

For a young male as him, he can't help but admit "little Harry's" testimony that the six in front of him are the most beautiful of the female race that he had the luck to see. Unlike the Sentinels and other Night Elves who are very scantily clad in his opinion, these six are downright drop dead gorgeous despite their modest dresses are white in color adorned with a girdle full of numerous moonstones that gleamed on the moonlight. At their arms are bands of silver with gems on it. Earings of emerald, jade and rubies adorned their long ears in cadences of color. At their heads are circlets of silver again, but this time with only a single gem with the design of a crescent moon lay at their foreheads. Only the silver-haired Night Elf at the middle had a different design, one with that of the full moon instead of a crescent. Mind you, now that the circlets are mentioned, Harrold was sure that he had also seen it on...

"Tyrande?" the Templar can't help but look at his companion and if he dared say it, friend who didn't meet his eyes. He can't help but let his eyes wander on the circlet also on her forehead and noticed the same design that the others sitting at had.

"You're...,"

"One of them?" finished Tyrande for him still not meeting his eyes. "Yes, I'm also part of the Temple of Elune and one of its councilors,"

For some reason, Harrold can't help a pang of hurt at his chest at her secrecy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

This time, she looked at him with a slight glare. "Will it matter Harrold? You're neither my enemy nor my ally. Does it matter if I didn't tell you that I am a potential hostage then that you beat me? Remember, we barely knew it each other Harrold,"

"I just thought we were friends," finished the Templar lowering his head. Harrold may be Harrold, but he was once Harry Potter, and Harry Potter treasured his friends above all else.

"It matters not anymore Harrold," spoke the Priestess in a finishing tone. "Come, the High Priestess is waiting for us,"

Burying the hurt deep in layer upon layer of Occlumency, Harrold followed Tyrande on the footsteps of the dais before kneeling as the same time as her as they reached the clearing in front of the council. The Sentinels guarding them dispersed to the sides barely making a sound as they stood at the entrance posts of the dais.

"Welcome Tyrande Whisperwind. We missed you today at the Council Meeting," the clear but gentle voice of the High Priestess. "Welcome Harrold James Potter, Grandmaster of the Templar Order. I have been expecting you,"

"You have?" Harrold can't help but look up before a pinch from Tyrande at his side snapped him back to bowing his head as he nearly forgot decorum at cutting the High Priestess off.

Instead of a reprimand though, what followed was the tinkling laugh of the High Priestess which echoed on the empty dais. "And here I expected to be dealing with a person so stuck up with formality. Come Tyrande, sit at your seat at this council and General Shandris, would you mind getting a chair for our guest?"

"Guest?" this time Harrold looked up again earning himself a kick on the shin from Tyrande for breaking decorum again who had stood up and is currently passing on his back. The giggles of the other Priestesses are the only sounds that followed as the Priestess gestured at Harrold to stand up just in time as Tyrande reached her seat beside the High Priestess and Shandris returning with a wooden chair for him; placing it at the middle facing the entire council of seven.

"May I your lady?" asked Harrold looking at the High Priestess who then nodded beckoning to the chair with her free hand. He was quite surprised though at the flick of her hand, the ropes binding his wrists are cut with a silver light.

 _"Impressive,"_ the Templar Grandmaster thought to himself as he looked at the cut bindings.

Scraping himself off the floor, Harrold made himself comfortable on the proffered chair as he faced the entire council facing them. He can't help but snigger inwardly though at how different Tyrande is compared to the rest of them from his point of view.. With her Sentinel attire still covered in mud, dirt, leaves and scratches, she looked terribly out of place with the other Priestesses who are very clean and noble looking in their white dresses.

"I call this council into session. Would our guest want to say something before we begin?" asked the High Priestess looking at him.

Harrold only nodded. He didn't miss what he thinks he miss when he dealt with Shandris and Tyrande, and the reason why he fought with the Priestess on the first place.

"How can you understand me?" the Templar finally asked out loud.

"You noticed," it was a statement, not a question.

"I did," agreed Harrold to the priestess who spoke. "Took me a while after all being entranced by your beautiful home, but I did,"

"Impressive," same Priestess muttered. "Other outsiders don't, merely remaining silent but glad that they can communicate with us,"

"Other outsiders?" blinked Harrold.

"Yes, they also call themselves humans," spoke another priestess on his left. "Took a fancy to one of our servants and tried to grope her in front of all us. Let's just say that he and his companions won't be doing it again anytime soon. In fact if not for Tyrande vouching for you and how courteous you are to your guards,we would have hanged you like we did to them, mistaking you as part them also,"

"I-I see," answered Harrold simply. He is quite intrigued though. He never expected that there would also be humans in this new world. He had expected tha they are the first of humanity here and the fate of their species on this land depended on them. However now is not the time for that.

"That still doesn't answer the question how you understand me," reminded Harrold.

"An answer you will receive Grandmaster after we concluded that you and your people are not threat to te Kaldorei as a whole," declared a Priestess. "It is the High Priestess' Alleia's responsibility to tell you about it for it connects with other facts that you know nothing about,"

"Alright," nodded Harrold dropping it for now knowing that the main reason for this council being gathered had just started. Besides he can't blame them. This is their home and Harrold though he may like it or not with his people are trespassing.

"I require no information from you Grandmaster. Elune herself told of your arrival," Alleia's gentle voice filled the room; and Harrold despite his iron will can't help but stare at the beautiful Elf with silver hair who gave him an encouraging smile. "But for the sake of the family heads and chiefs of different villages that had gathered here posthaste, please tell the story about your world and how you came here,"

 _"Wait a second? We have an audience?"_ Harrold cant help but think. Now that the High Priestess had mentioned it, he could feel eyes all around him.

Gulping, he took his eyes off the council and nearly sweatdropped on where he sat. Outside the open temple pillars and chambers, he coul see Night Elves either perched on the trees or standing beneath their shadows, nearly invisible in the naked eye under the night. All of them are obviously in attendance at this council and despite himself, Harrold can't help but feel nervous under all the stares.

Getting a grip on his nervous nerves, he returned his gaze into the council at which the illegally beautiful High Priestess made a gesture with her hand indicating to him as if saying: _"Go on,"_

Taking a deep breath Harrold stood. He is a Templar and he would not introduce his Order sitting. He is a knight for heaven's sake.

"My name is Harrold James Potter, Grandmaster of the Templar Order. You might ask what that is and I would tell you. The Order are made up of knights. People who swore themselves on upholding honor, justice, faith and truth as much as we can. Sure we can't all be perfect, but we at least try," added Harrold when one of the Priestesses snorted at his statement which is immediately silenced by a glare from Alleia before looking at Harrold to continue.

"I myself are born on a Kingdom named England. I grew up there and trained there under my father before I went up to the Holy City of Jerusalem which are leagues away from my homeland to fight the holy war that our religious leader had declared. There, I rose in rank after I joined my Order until I finally reached the position I am, currently in right now,"

Taking a deep breathe to gain some of his lost air and to think which parts to skip, Harrold began again. "It is not easy. We fought in a climate where armor such as the one I am wearing right now is more of a liability than help. Long story short, we are forced out of the Holy City after many years of gruelling war to the port cities which we also defended before we died,"

"Wait, you died?" interrupted one of the Priestesses. She's not the only one though, Much of the bystander Night Elves are muttering among themselves in their own language that Harrold did not understand.

"Yes," nodded the Templar Grandmaster quite unhappy to be reminded of his own death."An arrow to the neck and a sword through my heart I believe. What happened next I can't say, not I won't say. But know only this, deities far more powerful than we know gave many of us another chance in life. It's not our choice that we arrived here. We did not choose this place, we are not given an option about it,"

"I see," spoke the High Priestess whose face had remained impassive, unlike her kin who had their faces morphed into that of curiosity when Harrold told them about his previous life. "Would you mind telling us then how did you meet Priestess Tyrande?"

Harrold merely nodded in affirmation as he described to the Night Elven council as best as he could the events at the forest: the first encounter between him and Tyrande, the battle between them and the wild boar, the fight caused by misunderstanding between him and the Priestess' student and herself. He told them of Tyrande's decision to bring them here then so that unnecessary bloodshed will be prevented from repeating the same misunderstandings that happened between him and the blue and green haired priestess.

After his statement, Tyrande was also called by hers to check the validity of his words and to check if the story that he just spoke is fabricated. With her point of view also shared, Harrold noticed the slumped shoulders of relief that many of the Priestesses had. He can't help but be confused. What happened to these people that they are so afraid of distrustful of outsiders? Even the Jews when the Christians entered Jerusalem for the first time are not this suspicious.

"Based on the facts that you had said in front of this council Grandmaster Harrold, we perceive that you mean us no harm. However I must inquire what are the plans of your people now?" asked one of the Priestess. "It is obvious that you ned a place to settle your own and you had to understand that the Kaldorei would not stand for an invasion of any kind. We would react...harshly if that ever happens,"

"And I have no plans of conquest of any kind Priestess," declared Harrold quite loudly. In fact he was quite insulted by her words. They are knights goddammit. It is not in them to wage unnecessary war without good reason. He knew most of his Order would rather starve to death than participate in an atrocity such as that. "All my people wanted is a place to call our own and live our lives in peace Priestess. We have lived a lifetime of war, spilling the blood of many and destroyed many things. I think it's time to know if our talents could be replicated on the skill of wielding a hammer and rebuilding our lives back,"

"I see," said the Priestess who asked in a thoughtful voice. "But unfortunately no lands can be-,"

"Thank you Priestess Miela. That will be all," cut off Alleia gently effectively shutting everyone up as she looked back at the human sitting in front of them. "You are not a threat to my people Grandmaster. I believe that from the deepest of my heart. And I understand your plight. I have an offer for you. Come, walk with me to the gardens," she then shifted into her native tongue speaking something to the listening Elves and the other Priestesses who nodded before standing up and leaving their chairs like everyone else leaving Harrold bewildered from where he is.

Thankfully, the High Priestess solved that dilemma for him as she approached towards where he's sitting making Harold hold his breath at the beauty that seemed to radiate from the silver-haired elf. If only she knew how she is affecting him.

"Come Grandmaster. Walk with me," she gestured before walking off to the other side of the Temple which there are no guards present.

Feeling awkward at being the only one being left in the middle of the Temple dais, Harrold scurried after the High Priestess. He completely failed seeing the pair of bluish silver eyes belonging to a certain blue and green haired Night Elf watching him leave following the High Priestess of Elune.

The sounds of Harrold's footfalls with his metal boots made even him cringe in annoyance with himself as he trailed after the Night Elf leader on the stone pavement. As usual, he can.'t help but be in awe with their kind as they practically made zero noise on every step they make. Now that he noticed it though, the High Priestess is wearing no sandals or footwear of any kind, her dainty moving in and out of the hems of her white dress like violet mice.

She didn't speak to him as they continued walking and Harrold made no effort on starting one as he focused on observing his surroundings. As usual he can't help but be astonished by how different this world is compared to his old one.

At Earth, he was pretty sure that plant leaves do not glow in lights of silver, white and green. Neither stems of plants bowing to them as the High Priestess passed them. Numerous flowers from the purest white to Ebony black dotted the place he is currently in and despite himself, he can't help but appreciate the nature here and the Night Elven people that dwelt on it. As far as he noticed so far, he haven't seen any stump of trees that are evidence of being cut down the entire way here.

"What color is your favorite Grandmaster?"

"What?" Harrold was snapped out of his stupor by his guide's voice whom he noticed right now is crouched on a flower bed caressing a silver small flower daintily on her hand that seemed to be gleaming on its own light as if trying to imitate the very moon itself.

Looking at the Night Elven High Priestess, Harrold can't help but be reminded of his old king and friend. Baldwin the Second. Despite being the King of Jerusalem, the lepper king still took the time to play chess and deal on friendship with his lords, making sure that their problems are addressed.

The High Priestess merely smiled at him as Harrold didn't move from where he is standing. "Come sit on the ground with me Sir Harrold. May I call you Harrold? We have a lot to talk about,"

The Grandmaster of the Templar Order cursed mentally again as he came back to his sense, the fact that he disregarded decorum again kicking on his brain. He seems to be doing a lot of it today. If his father can see him, he would box his ears for forgetting his lessons as a noble.

"Of course High Priestess," Harrold finally added as he sat on the pavement beside the gorgeous NIght Elf who is caressing the plant on her palms, making sure that his chain mail not reach the ground. It would be a nightmare to wash later on if it did.

"Please, let us drop all formalities here Harrold. Just call me Alleia. I had enough people calling me High priestess and my lady already. It would be refreshing to have someone call me by my name other than Tyrande,"

"You know Tyrande?"

Alleia only giggled. "Ever since we were Elflings. We fought together against the Highborne and the Legion's invasion. And she has ever been my friend ever since the start of the Long Vigil and her suitor went to sleep,"

Harrold only blinked making the beautiful Elf beside him smile again before suddenly without warning, her long silver hair morphed from silver to a shiny deep violet that in Harrold's opinion looked much better on her than her previous one.

"You're not surprised?" Alleia raised an eyebrow in question at him.

Harrold only shrugged. "I have a friend once, she had also abilities to change her hair color like that. She used to do it every now and then to impress many of us,"

"She sounds like an impressive woman. I would like to meet this person one day,"

"She's dead,"

That somehow snapped their banter to a grinding halt as a somber feeling filled the air. Harrold refused to look at the Night Elf despite feeling her gaze drilling into him.

"I'm sorry," she finally said after a while.

"Don't be," Harrold waved off bottling his emotions as he once again remembered Tonks and Lupin lying side by side on his first life, hands still holding despite their demise. "She died a hero's death and in way that she chose to. I'll not dishonor her memory by feeling as if her death is a bad thing,"

The silence stretched again and Harrold didn't flinch as he felt the cool hand of the Priestess touch his gauntleted hands. He was thankful though for the moral support it brings.

"So what did you bring me here for High Priest-, I mean Alleia?" corrected Harrold as her eyebrow rose at the use of the formality. "As magnificent as your garden is and as fine as your company might be, I believe that it is not the only reasons why you brought me here,"

Her lips only curved upward in an amused smirk. "Very perceptive Harrold. It's no wonder that your Order choose you to be its leader. You do know how to think outside of the circle. You're right. The real reason I brought you here is also the reason why I said in the council that I'm expecting you. I know this will not be a big surprise with you, but I already knew that you are coming here on Azeroth for months already. You and your people,"

"Advance warning from someone?"

"The goddess Elune to be more exact," answered Alleia. "She told me about you coming here, something about an argument about her two siblings I believe. It is the reason why she graced the council with the knowledge to understand your words. She wanted you to feel welcome the moment you arrived in here. And a part of me also believed that she wanted you to trust us,"

"Ahh," nodded Harrold in understanding. Now the full circle about his questions about the "why" they have been brought in this world are complete. If only the two idiots allowed him to tell someone about their deals, then it would be easier. "I see now,"

"See what Harrold?"

"I see now why we're here. It's no coincidence as I believe at first. We are asked here. I only wonder what your goddess' motives are for dragging us halfway through the cosmos of time and space,"

Alleia only blinked. "She told me that thanks to your arrival. Many things that are supposed to happen will now be distorted and many deaths will be prevented, while new ones will be made. She said that your presence here on Azeroth will open the chance to many possibilities that might have not been part of the choice of destiny before,"

"Why the hell am I not surprised?" mumbled Harrold to himself inwardly scowling. Sure he expected this when he made the deal with the two immortals, but still for once. He doesn't want to be the hero of the story.

 _"I must have done something really bad in my first ever life if Lady Fate wanted to screw me over and over,"_ thought the Grandmaster to himself.

"Other than what you have told me Alleia. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"Actually there is," spoke the Night Elf in a morose tone. "You might not like this, but I want you to let me finish before you cut me off alright?"

"Okay," Harrold only replied confusedly, wondering what the hell she would ask to piss him off.

"I need you to do something for my people," the High Priestess finally stated. "You might be pardoned by me, but my people will never trust yours until they prove something in their eyes. For them, you will always be outsiders no matter what I will say and only your deeds can change that opinion. If your people don't earn my people's trust. No matter how much we order them not to claw each other's eyes out, one way or another, an incident will happen if we don't at least bridge a common understanding between them,"

"Alright," Harrold waved to her for continuing. "Judging from the way you are speaking Alleia, I guess you had a plan already in motion?"

"More like an offer and an opportunity in fact," a small smile graced her features for a second before disappearing as fast., growing morose next. "This is not something easy to ask for me Harrold. At the south on a place called Felwood lies one of our most hated enemies who had been in a quarrel with our race ever since the Sundering. They are called Satyrs. Normally they aren't a problem to our Sentinels, but latest reports from the borders of Ashenvale told that they had gathered in greater numbers than before under a Warlock and had even sacked the garrison stationed at Felwood; capturing the Sentinels I placed there. I fear that they would be used for breeding purposes and if you would accept this mission on eradicating that Warlock and saving my people that they captured. Satyrs are a plague to everyone here and if you defeated them, it would cement your reputation to my people,"

"Of course I'll accept!" Harrold immediately responded without a doubt in his psyche, his anger flaring at the monsters who dared condone such acts. Any true knight would ride night and day to kill such monsters as that. "They've captured women and if what you say is true, then it is our responsibility to provide judgement for them. I had to ask though the logistics of the enemy and such. I don't want to walk into a battle without knowing how many or what kind of enemies I am facing, and what their abilities are,"

"Understandable. Shandris will accompany you with her Sentinels. However Harrold, if you did manage to deal with these monsters. I formally grant you the Isle of Flats which you popped up with your people. I will also send you some Ancients to enlarge and raise parts of the Island's beaches so that you can build a town or a village there if you want,"

"Thank you my lady,"

"Harrold!"

"I mean Alleia, thank you Alleia," Harrold corrected immediately trying not to blush at the radiant smile that the High Priestess is having.

"You're welcome Harrold. Now, I heard that you wanted to know about the history of my people?"

Harrold's eyes only widened as he looked at her in wonder. "How did you-,"

"Know?" finished Alleia for him. "It's quite obvious that you wanted to understand my people Harrold. Every time I mentioned events for us like "Sundering", your face would have that scrunchy look that seemed to ask "what". Also I believe it would give you an overview about how to react and understand my people if you know our history,"

"I-I see. Thank you mi-, err...Alleia. But is it really proper that it should be you to be the one sharing this to me. Won't one of your Priestesses suffice?" asked Harrold.

She only smirked at him and pouted (illegally cutely) at him. "Why oh why Harrold? Are you really that bothered with my company that you're driving me away?"

"What? No! Of course not!" the knight immediately answered. "I just- well, I just thought that I don't want to be a bother for your time after all,"

To his surprise, she laughed aloud, her voice like bells on the air. "Trust me Harrold. Talking to you today had been the most enlightening I ever had on my long life. Now come, lay on the flowerbeds and I'll tell you about the history of the Kaldorei,"

The two would spend the entire night discussing the Night Elves' story under the stars and neither would notice that they would accidentally doze off on each other's arms. At the morning, a green and blue haired Priestess would find them still wrapped over one another on the flower beds of the garden.

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At another part of Ashenvale, a barely sailing ship crashed unto the sides of the walls of a cliff, its passengers clambering around the shores before getting themselves lost in the woods, only to find themselves facing an iron door on the mountainside locked with almost a hundred locks.

"What do you think this place is?"

"I don't know,"

"Is it empty?"

"Only one way to find out. _Alohomora,_ "

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Deep at the dungeons, a rather blind Demon Hunter opened his eyes from the meditative trance he was in. For years he had mastered the arcane magic of his prison and memorized every magic on the prison cells that the Watchers guarded. Nothing anymore interests him in his long years here.

Until now that he felt another form of magic that he did not know about open the doors of the prison entrance.

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 **Hello, sorry if it was a bit long. Nearly 7K words and I had to think a lot. There are a lot of questions to be asked on the story, but I would not entertain them. The answers would appear later on the next chapters and I won't spoil it. As for the pairings, yes it is a Tyrande and Harrold, but I won't make it easy for them. I've decided on a character death for later, and it would affect our hero very deeply.**

 **If you wanted to know what Alleia looked like. Search "Tyrande's Blood Oath". It's a story I've read, warning its a lemon. But the picture of the Night Elf there, is what I imagined Alleia looked like. She's pretty there and deeply drop dead gorgeous in my opinion,**

 **I didn't write the History of the Night Elves here. It is quite long and I can't write that many without my fingers falling off. Just research it on Warcraft Wiki.**

 **Please fav and Review. I want your opinions. A simple review word of "nice" will suffice. Im a new writer and opinions kept me going. Help me improve this story readers. hihihihi Maybe later the Rate will change to M due to battles and lemons.**

 **PS: Lustmaster! You're a liar and a moron. Bother me once more and I would personally rip your eye balls out the moment I got my hands on you.**

 **And by the way. Are spam reviews like "shitty story" normal?**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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"You know Tyra, if you told me many years before that it would be outsiders who would be solving our satyr problem, I would have been very skeptical,"

"I agree," Tyrande nodded to Shandris' words as she continued walking trying to take in the views of the camp around her.

It had been two weeks since the meeting between the council of her people and Harrold. Although with their fears allayed temporarily, many are still wary about the "humans". It didn't help that rumors had immediately sprouted that something is going on between High Priestess Alleia and the Grandmaster. Tyrande had been the one to discover them sleeping on each other's arms on the bedflowers of the council's personal meditation garden. If not for the fact that she isn't insanely unhappy seeing her new human "friend" getting cozy with their leader, and her old friend. Tyrande would have found the scene between the two of them cute. Still, despite her personal dislike of the situation, the Priestess of the Moon did her best to ward off eavesdroppers from walking into them. Despite her best efforts though, someone apparently had seen them. Thus when Alleia declared that the Grandmaster had offered to eradicate their satyr problem for them, that decision was met with many jeers and protests from many of the House heads.

Even Tyrande herself is not happy with the High Priestess' decision. This problems belonged to the Night Elves and to the Night Elves alone. The Kaldorei in her don't like the fact one bit that they would be relying on a bunch of outsiders to take care of their problem for them. However the Sentinel in her agreed that the way that the High Priestess chose despite unorthodox, is a highly logical one. With the humans' help, they would finally be able to erase the new Satyr king and at the same time save a lot of Kaldorei lives.

The Satyrs have always been a plague to the Night Elven society both in Ashenvale and Felwood with their constant raids. It's even worse now since they banded together. She had great trust on Shandris and her Sentinels, but unfortunately after many years of savage fighting of raid and counter-raid, the Sentinels haven't been able to stamp the Satys off of the most part of Felwood despite heavy losses on both sides.

So here they are right now, with the two thousand and nine hundred soldiers that the Templar Grandmaster had promised on the edge of Felwood a fortnight before the battle tomorrow. Tyrande had to give it to Harrold on coming up trumps on punctuality. Apparently he and the High Priestess have planned this carefully for three days after Alleia's declaration, a fleet of makeshift ships immediately arrived on Darkshore carrying the banners of the red cross of the Templars and the white sparrow on a field of blue of the Orderless knights. Their timing is impeccable despite scaring the residents of Darkshore witless at their grand entrance, making it impossible for the other houses to override the High Priestess' decision now that the army is here.

Tyrande though was no fool. She knew what Harrold and the Priestess is playing at. Sure, her people may completely dislike the idea of having these outsiders on their lands and want nothing more than to drive them off. However if they succeed on driving the satyrs out and cleansing Felwood of their foul presence, then they would be hailed as a heroes and the alliance that the High Priestess is planning to build with the humans would be then a possibility.

Night Elves hate Satyrs as a rule. Ever since the start of the Long Vigil, the annoying vermin have been raiding their groves, taking many of her kin prisoner to be used for their "breeding". Many have lost a mother, a sister, a cousin and friend on their raids and many have been wanting payback for years.

So now with the aid of an actual army who looked armed to the teeth. Many of these Kaldorei had joined the march to the edge of Felwood and are now awaiting eagerly on this eve before the battle.

As for Tyrande, she might have no obligation on being here, but she'll be damned before she be left behind. Being a Priestess, she had an excuse in order for "not to be here" with her duties, but Tyrande would never have wasted this opportunity. A new people that is honorable to a fault and friendly to the core? Which Sentinel would miss that?

She might have told herself though that the reason she came here is to either fight the Satyrs or get to know the new people and to learn from them. However if she is honest with herself, the real reason she is here is because High Priestess Alleia for some reason decided to grace this expedition with her very own presence.

Of course based on a logical view point. It made a lot of sense. Alleia had always taken responsibility of every decision she made, and such a big one as this, it was reasonable to think that she'll rather gnaw her arms than turn a blind eye on it. The council itself thinks so. However for Tyrande, a part of her suspected that Alleia came because of Tyrande's "friend". For some reason, the Priestess of the Moon suspected that her leader seemed fond of Harrold and thinking about it gave Tyrande an ugly feeling on her gut. She had seen Alleia riding on a beautiful white mare that the Templar Order had lent her riding alongside Harrold on their way here and the sight made Tyrande grind her teeth in annoyance. She herself had talked with Harrold only twice or thrice on the week and a half march and she felt horribly inadequate about their time together.

Ignoring the chattering of Shandris beside her who is praising how beautiful the blue banners of the Orderless knights are, Tyrande made a beeline on Harrold's tent. She needed his company and she needed it now.

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"Quite an impressive sight isn't it?" Harrold asked his old friend and partner who had stood by him ever since there second death at their old world. Below him is the large mass of tents that seem to go on and on, a token force from the twenty thousand capable on wielding a sword from the group that are given the chance of rebirth on Azeroth.

"I agree. Reminds me of the time when we faced Saladin at Kerrak when we marched with King Baldwin the Second," nodded Neville. "Now that was an impressive sight,"

Despite himself Harrold can't help but smile at the memory of that day. Thousands of flags of different colors of hundreds of Orders flying beside the flag of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. A hundred thousand men-at-arms and thousands of Knights riding behind the Lepered king who managed to look impressive despite his disease against two hundred thousand Muslims from Damascus led by Saladin. Now that was an impressive sight despite no fight occuring between the two.

It had been a challenge at first to convince most of the new arrivals that fighting a battle after recently just arriving and given a second chance in life is something they must do. Harrold had to remind them that they must play it safe on the locals if they planned to live peacefully on this place, and winning a battle is the only way to gain their trust. That convinced the knights and fighting men though some of the civvies, still looked unconvinced.

"You know Harrold, Draco will be complete unbearable that you left him behind with all the paperwork. He's the only Templar you left behind," reminded Neville.

The Grandmaster of the Templar Order only snorted. "You know as I do Nev that he's the only one who can manage everyone without me. Besides, if everything's going right on schedule, the moment we're done mopping up this sorry lot, we'll have blueprints of a castle or even a city with Draco being the one in charge,"

"Do you really think that we have the time to build one?"

"Aye, I do," nodded Harrold. "Once we secure the peace treaty and the Alliance with the Kaldorei, we would have all the time in the world to build a new home here, a strong one if my instincts are right about what is to come. With Draco remaining behind, I'm pretty sure that we'll have plans up and running ready only to be executed then at my command,"

"Right, Harrold. Do you really think that these violet women belong to war?" Neville asked a bit skeptically sparing a glance past their tent on the small clearing behind their tent where dozens of Sentinels who had decided to fight alongside them had set up a temporary base on a moon well there and are currently frolicking with one another. "No disrespect Harrold, but I mean they belong more to the pleasure houses back at home instead of wielding a bow and a knife. And don't get me started on their armor. Do you have any idea how many knights have to confess to Father Viktor about the lewd thoughts that went to their heads because of the well... revealing attires of our new allies?"

"Father Viktor told you the confessions of our brothers?" Harrold asked incredulously looking at his old friend who went red. For a Templar, confessions are rather personal and it isn't the priests' right to divulge it to anyone even under the pain of death.

"He did," admitted Neville. "He felt it right that I address the problem to you before any incident might happen. The knights may be able to control their urges with their honor, but I don't believe that the men-at-arms will be able to get a grip on themselves. After all in our culture, women isn't exactly viewed the same as men and I won't put it past one drunk person not to grab a passing Kaldorei if he is incoherent enough,"

"It's a good thing that I situated them behind my tent then," sighed Harrold knowing how much of a headache such an incident could cause. As far as he knew thanks to Alleia's crash course, Kaldorei are a proud people and they won't take a slight against any of their species lying down. And Harrold right now had no wish to pick an argument with them over such a matter even though he agreed to what Neville made clear for him. Even he had to struggle on their presence thanks to their attires.

Currently thanks to some overview on his part, he had situated that the five hundred Sentinels who chose to accompany Shandris and Alleia with him to battle are camped on the woods behind his tent which is situated over a cliff overlooking the valley where their camp is situated. Other than the fact that the Kadorei didn't trust the other humans yet other than him. It would also prevent accidents that a lovesick human might cause over the too-beautiful elves.

"Well I gotta go Harrold," sighed Neville. "I need a good drink before I go to battle tomorrow. You want some?" invited the Templar Captain. "I still have sour goat's milk on my waterskin at the tent. Better and stronger than those grapevines that the muslims used to sell on us at Jerusalem,"

Harrold only laughed waving his old friend off. "No thanks Nev. I prefer standing here. Standing here and think alone so that no one would hear me shitting my guts out in nervousness,"

Neville guffawed before walking off and waving one more time leaving Harrold standing on the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley alone. He can't help but take a deep breathe. Tomorrow he would be responsible for all these lives again. War have always been a nasty business and no matter how good a commander may be, you would always lose lives no matter how hard you try, and it would be a commander's burden afterwards to carry alone always.

Harrold himself had lost his fair share of soldiers starting with the bandit raid that cemented his status as a knight of the realm and later when he became the Grandmaster of the Templar Order. Until now Harrold haven't yet forgiven King Guy, King Baldwin's successor by marriage through his sister who lost two thousand Templars in the blink of an hour.

"Can't sleep?" a familiar melodic voice snapped Harrold out of his thoughts making him smile and made a slight bow to the beautiful green haired Night Elf wearing the familiar Sentinel Armor that he had seen on her the first time before.

"Lady Tyrande," greeted Harrold as the Priestess approached him. "What brings you here my lady?"

"Oh, are we all set now on formalities human?" smirked the Night Elf with a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Well you still refused to call me by my name...Tyra," shrugged Harrold. He didn't miss the scowl that immediately adorned the beautiful Night Elf's face at the pet name.

"Only my friends call me that," she growled predatorily at him reminding Harrold of a wolf.

"I thought we are friends," Harrold mock pouted earning him a snort from her.

"Come off it human," she waved off as she sat at the edge of the cliff. "Now why are you still awake at such late of an hour human?"

"I could say the same to you Tyra," replied Harrold sitting beside her. He can't help but blush as he felt her hand immediately creep into his. He can't help but admire how cool she is. Sure he held her hand before, but he's wearing gauntlets that time. Now that he's not wearing the infernal things, he could feel how smooth her skin is. Immediately like usual, he can't help but let his eyes travel all over her body marveling at her beauty. She seemed so pale and beautiful at the same time. It didn't help that with how close that they are, he could see how nice her breasts looked under that armor. Oh he would really need to confess to the priest later for...

"Seen something you like human?" the amused voice of Tyrande snapped Harrold off as he slowly let his eyes move from her chest to her silver and blue eyes who are currently looking at him.

 _"Shit!"_ thought the Grandmaster unable to stop the redness that immediately rose on his neck as the fact kicked in that he had been caught red-handed peeking at her. He's doomed.

"My lady I didn't mean to-, I mean I find you beautiful and I-, No, not what I meant, what i mean is that I- I'm sorry for, ahem, I mean I'm sorry for-," Harrold immediately stammered feeling sweat beading his face in a rapid rate.

Oh good Lord what's he going to do? He might have just ruined the peace treaty between his people and theirs. Tyrande is a member of their high ruling council and he had just offended her by staring so blatantly and openly on her breasts. Not that she's hiding them, but the fact still remains that he had insulted her in such a shameful manner. Wars have been fought on less.

"Harrold calm down!" the sharp voice of Tyrande cracked like a whip making the Grandmaster stiffen as his panic froze at the same time as his body as Tyrande stared at him. Somehow her using his name every time made him stop what he is doing and calm down. "It's nothing Harrold. Don't make a fuss over it. My people have never been so conservative and besides..I feel flattered that I made such an impression on you,"

"What?" Harrold blinked owlishly unable to understand how she could simply wave it off. If he was at Earth, the offended woman would have demanded him hanged already for such disrespect.

"Surely, Alleia have told you already about how relationships go on about our people yes?" Tyrande smirked at him.

"Y-yes," nodded Harrold in affirmation. He found it hard to accept the fact that the Night Elves don't bound themselves forever on each other. They would find a mate and live with each other until their feelings pass and then they would separate once both parties agreed that they don't feel the same way with one another before repeating the process on a new relationship.

For someone like Harrold who held true to the beliefs of humans about Catholicism thanks to being a knight. He can't help but find the process of distasteful no matter how much Alleia sugar coat it saying that Night Elves lived extremely long lives and bounding ones self to one person for millennia is too much sometimes for a single elf. Sure there are those mated who until now remained faithful to each other having a love so great. But most of their society are composed of the former instead of the latter.

"We've never been conservative Harrold," spoke Tyrande. "I do not like it when you stare at me so blatantly like a meat you can eat anytime but you are my friend Harrold and I am glad that you think so positive things about me. It is good to know that you are appreciated before we go into battle tomorrow,"

"Still, for what it's worth. I want to let you know that I didn't mean to do what I did Tyra," said Harrold forcing a smile on his lips looking at the gorgeous Night Elf beside him with relief. Though mentally he swore he would fast for a week for committing such an offense at a later date.

"Good," smirked the Priestess. "For it doesn't mean that even if you are my friend, I would let you touch me,"

"W-w-w-w-what?" spluttered Harrold unable to stop the blushing alarm that immediately rattled his senses as the thought of how wonderful it is to actually touch Tyrande in an imitate manner entered his thoughts.

Tyrande's musical laugh only followed Harrold's spluttering on the night. In fact Harrold was glad that the beautiful Priestess spent most of the night with him. It erased the tension and worry that the massive battle will cause tomorrow that he dreaded a lot.

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Raslig, Satyr Overlord, self-proclaimed King of Felwood and King of the seventy satyr tribes that he united under his rule sat smirking on his gnarled chair as he watched the smaller force of "outsiders" and Night Elves face his grand army of six thousand. He actually felt quite insulted. He had been expecting a larger force when his scouts on Ashenvale got wind of a large army approaching his new kingdom. Seeing them now marshalled on the empty clearing facing his own force, he can't help but snort in amusement as he got a fair estimate of their number. They can't be more than two thousand despite the weird huge weapons that the outsiders have with them. This would be a boring battle for him.

"You there slave," he pointed to one of the captured Sentinels that are now chained to his throne with rock collars on their necks. She immediately trembled like a leaf on the wind and hesitated on approaching him until her fellow prisoners pushed her making her sprawl on the ground on all fours like a beast.

 _"Ha! So much for Kaldorei looking out on their own,"_ snorted the Satyr King with amusement as the Night Elf woman still trembling fell on her knees in front of him giving him a good look at her cleavage. He had most of the Sentinels he captured stripped of their dignity and pride before as many of them are used as "entertainment" and "breeders" for his loyal subjects.

"Go there," he pointed at one gnarled claw at the army of outsiders and Night Elves. "Tell them to leave my lands and swear not to enter Felwood again and I will spare their lives. Fight and they will die. And tell whoever is in charge of you Kaldorei that if she entertained the courage to continue on this outrage, I would personally make her my breeder. Do you understand me?"

"Y-y-y-yes m-my l-lord," stuttered the Night Elf nervously making Raslig guffaw. "Now go!" he slapped the bum of the said Night Elf who squeaked and whimpered as his claws left bloody marks on her arse making the surrounding satyrs laugh and jeer as she scampered off to the opposite side.

"You!" Raslig pointed at one of the satyrs who had crude axes by the dozen that are made for throwing. "Make sure that you cripple her left leg the moment she got halfway through,"

"Yes my king," cackled the axe-thrower dashing off to the forefront of the line.

Raslig just laughed as he relaxed on his throne looking at his messenger, but not before pulling one of the vines connected to it dragging one of his Kaldorei prisoners to his side to fondle.

Its good being king and he wanted to be home at dinner tonight with an elf or two in his bed.

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"You know Alleia, when you said Satyrs, I imagined looking at people who looked like goats and grinning with mischief not Night Elves who looked like they forgot how to shave in a century," commented Harrold as he watched pensively the massive army in front of them.

"We really should have brought more men Harrold," spoke the High Priestess nervously beside him. "Maybe it would be better if we fall back for now and regroup while I mobilize my people and the Sentinels to even the odds a bit," she suggested.

"And give that overlarge thing sitting on the throne more time to fuck your captive Sentinels? Thank you but no. We'll make do with what we have Alleia, stop worrying," waved Harrold off though the Night Elf priestess at his side looked totally unconvinced at his reassurance.

The Grandmaster of the Templar Order despite his confident face though is worried, though not as worried as he thought he would be now that he had seen his enemy. One look from him is all it takes to know that his enemy is all idiots. While an army's numbers had always been a massive factor in determining victories, it isn't always a guarantee that you would win already. The army in front of him if army it can be called. In Harrold's opinion is nothing more than a rabble put hastily together. With his plan, he is confident that he can crush them all without causing too much deaths on his side of the field.

"Maybe I should fight with you to even out the odds," suggested Alleia. "You would need my magic and power,"

"No!"

"Tyrande's riding isn't she? And she is a priestess too," pointed out the silver-haired Night Elf irritably.

"As I said before Alleia, no!" repeated Harrold trying not to grit his teeth. The High Priestess can be really stubborn if she wanted to. Can't she see that the bastard satyr had been eyeing her like a slab of meat at the opposite side of the army? As for Tyrande, Harrold had no idea what made her answer in one to two syllable words ever since Alleia popped up and had stayed away from him, none of her warm attitude last night showing up.

He had asked Neville about it and was quite surprised in fact when his old friend merely gave him a look as if saying: _"Really?"_ in a very incredulous face in front of him. He made a menta note to ask Tyrande later on. He really does enjoy her company though what happened last night, he swore to carry into his grave with him.

"Who's that?" asked Neville at his side bringing Harrold out of his thoughts as his green eyes perceived a lithe and sickly looking figure stumbling towards them on the open ground between the two armies. Even from this distance, he could see that it is a Night Elf and a Sentinel though her broken armor is barely covering her and her body looks like it had seen better days with all the bruises and small wounds littering her.

"I believe that would be our envoy from our Satyr friends," Harrold spoke grabbing the High Priestess on her waist just in time as she tried to ride towards the stumbling figure on her moon saber.

"Let me go Harrold!" hissed Alleia.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" replied Harrold grunting at the effort of keeping the Night Elf trapped in his arms as she flailed and kicked. He was also aware that the only reason that the Sentinels who were currently standing beside him not drawing their bows was the realization of the fact that their leader was currently acting irrationally.

"She didn't deserve it! My people didn't deserve it" she wailed and even Harrold is surprised as he saw tear stains falling from her beautiful almond eyes. Moving in instinct, Harrold pulled her to him letting her sob on his armor as she beat his chestplate with her fists begging to be let go even as his arms encircled her making shushing sounds ignoring the incredulous and hated looks the Kaldorei is throwing at him and the smirking ones of the knights.

The Grandmaster knew that this little scene with Alleia is sure to be a major gossip on both species later on. And many tongues would be wagging in laughter at the two of them for days. To hell with them though! Alleia needed his help and he'll be damn sure be providing it. She may be the High Priestess but she is also Alleia. It is obvious with the disapproving glances that her people is giving her that she is shaming their race with her moment of weakness.

"Harrold!" Neville's alarmed tone made the Grandmaster of the Templar Order as he pulled his eyes from the crying Night Elf on his chest to whatever caused Neville's alarm.

He didn't need to look far.

Out of the ranks of the enemy army, one satyr clad in leather howled in glee and immediately began throwing axes at the bloodied and bruised Night Elf who screamed in fear and immediately wobbled a little faster towards them even as axes came raining towards her.

Before Harrold could order some of his outriders to rescue the doomed limping lithe form though, a roar followed by Elven words sounded at his side and before he could stop them, Tyrande atop her Frost saber and fifty of the Watchers on their own moon sabers leaped over the ranks of the knights and men-at-arms, heading towards the limping figure with a charge.

 _"Shit! She's going to ruin the whole plan!"_ thought Harrold seeing the Kaldorei riders cover a great distance quickly. He had to make a mental note on minding the fury of the children of the moon next time they enter a battle though.

"GO! GO! Follow them. Archer units advance!" yelled the Grandmaster grabbing a ram's horn from Colin at his side blowing two ringing notes on the air that immediately got most of the army footmen moving forward in a jogging pace after the Priestess and her riders.

"Alleia," Harrold spoke the name of the Night Elf High Priestess not surprised to see also the look of fury in her eyes as she bared her teeth at the direction of the Satyrs. She had the same fury as them though minus the recklessness. "Advance with the archers. Keep them firing once the enemy charges alright?" commanded Harrold. He knew that in her anger, Alleia would not exactly be able to take command with the rest of the Sentinels in a coherent way. Besides, what better position to keep these beautiful women away from trouble than at the back where their talents at shooting would be put to great advantages. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes,"

"Good," placing a kiss on her forehead as a blessing of good luck ignoring the slightly dazed look that replaced her furious one for a second, Harrold let go of her and spurred his horse besides Neville and the six hundred knights he purposefully picked on this mission. They would be the key to victory today.

"You know what to do! Do not fear! God is with us!" roared Harrold drawing his greatsword and raising it on the air.

"God is with us!" Six hundred throats echoed the familiar words and with one more nod to Neville for good luck, Harrold spurred his horse to the treeline at the east while his friend took the opposite one.

Sparing a glance at the Kaldorei High Priestess who had grown on him, he can't help but smile as he saw them advancing with the rest of the archers behind the lines of the vanguard knights and the spearmen of the main army.

Taking the dirt road of the trees, Harrold urged his horse to go faster. His plan is simple in fact. The main army which is composed of three hundred archer units and five hundred knights would face the advancing the Horde and hold them off while the heavy cavalry led by Neville and him would advance using the cover of the trees at either side before turning back and hitting enemies' flanks crushing them between the hammer and the anvil. The heavy infantry with their kite-like massive shields and longswords would be able to give those Satyrs pause and the archer units which is composed of two spearmen and an archer can inflict massive damage before the enemy can come to grips with them, especially with the aid of the Night Elven Sentinels.

Urging his horse to ride faster, as he passed through thick branches in insanely speed. Harrold just wished they would arrive on time and catch their enemy off guard preserving casualties to a bare minimum. If there is one thing he learned during his many battles is the simple fact that plans can go awry at the most miniscule of detail change.

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Raslig can't help but laugh raucously from where he is sitting at watching the start of his sure victory. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect that the Night Elves would be drawn out like moths to the fire because of one slave. Now his entire army is charging towards the smaller one, the Satyr overseers belonging to his clan forcing the massive group on a single charge. Already he can almost taste the sweetness of victory and the soft body of his new bedwarmer who right now is currently at the back of the outsider army with the smaller number of Sentinels with her obvious in her white gown that marked her as a High Priestess.

He can't help but feel proud of himself and his large army. He had seen a fair number of his enemies bolt to the trees atop those four legged beasts they have the moment his army charged. The cowards!

Now he watched in barely controlled anticipation as his army closed the gap on the smaller force who had seemed to stop barely making any move other than allowing the small group of huntresses to pass through their ranks with the Priestess leading them and the slave "messenger" he had sent.

Raslig had always expected that his force would be lessened a great deal with the Elven bows, but their numbers can more than sustain the morale damage no matter how much the Elves might try to force his army to be arrow-shy. His Overseers are ruthless and many of the tribes who fought with him feared his overseers more than the threat of the Elven bows.

A loud yell of a female voice sounded the air and Raslig watched unworried as the back ranks of the Outsiders and nearly all Sentinels raise their bows and released a barrage of arrows on his approaching army dropping a lot of them like flies. Immediately after the barrage, it almost took two seconds before the blasted Elves reloaded and fired again dropping even more of his satyrs. The next volley is a mix between those outsiders then and he Night Elves filling the sky with arrows stopping many of his advancing satyrs either dead or wounded, only to be trampled by their fellow demons.

A small cheer at his side made the Satyr King narrow his eyes as he saw one of his bed warmers with a bright hopeful smile on her face as she watched the battle and the dying of many of Raslig's kin. He didn't waste any more time grabbing her by her hair ignoring her screams and protests of pain as she pulled her to his side forcing her to watch.

"You think they're winning you violet-skinned whore!" roared Raslig, spittle flying out of his mouth to her terrified face. "Watch as my army decimate and capture your priestess! She'll be one of you before this day is finished!"

And with his piece said, Raslig shook his head captive like a rag doll enjoying how she screeched as her scalp burned with him using her hair as a grip hold as he returned watching the battle. Already his army have reached the front lines of the enemy and a heavy melee occured as the vanguard of the outsiders' small army weathered the rush of his savage horde, the flanks of the enemy at left and right being held by massive kite shape shields while the center is literally a picket of thorns with the number of spears stopping the satyrs massive advance in a grinding halt, as the smaller army either blockaded their path with the heavy shields or making the front satyrs utter nervous as they faced the sharp long tipped weapons their fellows at the back jostling them to their death.

Raslig is confused, this type of battle is new to him. Unlike the violet-skinned sluts who fought in a mixed melee with their knives once the battle came into grips. These new group instead retained their ranks and formations holding like a rock on the seashore, remaining stable even as the waves battered it.

Before Raslig could bellow from where he sat to his Overseers to force the army forward and break their enemy lines, the sound of arrows released immediately filled the air followed by the sound of a sharp whistle from the enemy front lines.

Black shafts fell like deadly hail not at the front of his army but rather at the middle and the back causing the cramped satyrs to fell over one another as many of them became easy pickings to Elven accuracy, Satyr Overseer falling over one another. However it seemed that fortune had favored him for once as he saw the front line of his enemy break, the soldiers who had held the first assault of his army deserting their posts. Ragnis cackled in glee as the same time as his satyr army who like him saw the opportunity and returned to press their advantage.

Only to be met with fresher spears and deadly longswords that darted like snake tongues piercing chest, ribs and anything that it could reach over the lightly armored demons. The ones who charge immediately fell like bowling pins as the Outsider army pushed forward instead of holding this time, trampling the satyrs plowed down on the ground by the slow but steady advance. Normally such a tactic won't be useful for such a large compact group but the constant barrage of arrows on the middle and back of the army which contained the reserve troops are now disarrayed and are unable to provide the support the frontlines need to keep up with the momentum who are now being decimated by the outsiders with ease; forcing those who are in front slowly backwards or unbalancing them on the corpses of their kin leaving them sitting ducks as the advancing line passed over those who are fallen leaving them at the mercy of the blades of the second and third lines of the enemy.,

Raslig gritted his teeth, the momentum of the battle had turned against his army as the Satyr Overseers he appointed to push the army forward in case a situation like this ever occured are now being taken down one by one by the inhuman accuracy of the Elves leaving the buckling army of his at the edge of breaking point being slowly pushed back.

"This is unacceptable!" growled Raslig to himself as he stood up filling his lungs with air to bellow at the army below that he'll have their heads if they took one more step back.

However fate it seems love to cut him off today when a loud piercing horn to his horror appeared on the woods at the back of his army. And immediately before the Satyr king can even wonder what the heck is the enemy had managed to pull this time, out of the trees left and right burst the riders whom he thought arrogantly had balked off at the start of the battle. The riders cantered for a few seconds before slowly breaking into a full gallop as their horses gained momentum and soon the war cry of the outsiders broke out as the horses reached full speed heading straight to the back flanks of his army who panicked at the sight of the heavily armored horses bearing down on them.

And as if it seems, someone immediately broke the spell of silence on the army they are facing as one cry roared into all throats and before Raslig could even formulate a strategy, the main army of Kaldorei and human formed into a thick wedge and drove deep into the heart of the satyr army crushing everyone on their path sending the entire front of the proud army he had careening at the impact as the long spears and heavy duty longswords and shields crushed anyone on their path.

At the same time the riders crashed at the rear at both sides, lances piercing deep into the light armored satyrs by the dozens and crushing bodies one after another as the momentum of the charge rolled over like a large border over the panicked satyrs who despite their best efforts on fighting back are struck down easily.

Raslig this time watched in panic as his entire force is assailed on all three sides making it buckle under the strain of the attacks, thousands dying simply on the mad rush. With the death of many of his Overseers, the army lost anhy sense of command and coherence and this time Raslig watched in panic as the proud army of six thousand or what's left of it break one by one at first then finally by the dozens as panicked Satyrs abandoned their kin and fled in fear at the forests. The battle is finally a rout.

Raslig himself can't stop the roar of anger that left his lips. This is unacceptable. He had invested too much and spent so much effort on gaining the position he have now and right now it is all simply being taken from him, slipping faster than an eel on his paws.

Grabbing the neck of the Elf who had cheered before, Raslig bellow a challenge at the army below him, throwing the screaming she-elf in front of his throne in front of everyone. And in view of both friend and foe, Raslig thrusted his paws at the back of the elf stopping her cries immediately as he ripped out her spinal column.

As she expected a wail answered his actions and he didn't need to look up to see the white figure of the High Priestess riding her cat bounding towards him with fury in her eyes,.

He was too engrossed with the approaching foe that he never noticed the armored figure that crept at the back of his throne and without warning plunged a longsword at his back along Raslig cough as he glanced at the blade protruding from his chest.

Looking back at the face of his killer, he cursed, but all that came out was nothing more than a gurgle as he choked on his own blood before the blade was finally pulled out of his back and chest, letting him step two more before sinking into his knees and finally crashing to the ground lifeless.

All he had seen before he died was a pair of green eyes peering over the visor of the helmet of his killer.

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Maiev Shadowsong rose from where she is praying. The sound of the wards falling down one after another sent alarms throughout the vault and the Warden had no idea what is causing them as she ran as fast as her legs can carry her to where most of the other Watchers have finally gathered. It didn't take long for her to find the violet hair of Naisha sticking out.

"Naisha report what is going on?" demanded the Warden as the Watchers fell in beside her as they ran towards the main pathway of the Vault.

"I had no idea my lady. The wards around the prison have gone down without warning ane someone had opened the main gates in a manner of seconds," replied the Watcher nearly fumbling with the keys on her hand as she frantically tried to find the one that will make them pass the door in front of them.

"Hurry, hurry!" urged the Warden as she could hear the faint sounds of fighting over the inner parts of the Vault. How did the intruders get past that despite all the guards, she did not know.

When Naisha finally found the right key, Maiev wasted no more time kicking the door open and stopped dead on her tracks as she saw the motionless bodies of her fellow wardens scattered around the hall.

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 **Hello! So that's another chapter done. Please fav and review.**

 **I know that many of you wanted to see Harrold as a bad ass, but I am racking my brains here on trying not to make Harrold Gary Stu. He is not perfect but he is a wise commander and a good fighter. Yes, he can still use magic but only on the simplest of spells. Explanations will be made later on.**

 **Yes, Tyrande is having emotional problems. In the game, Tyrande have always been straightforward and I'm doing my best here to portray her as best as I can. Try guessing why she is possessive of Harrold.**

 **Yes, Alleia and Harrold is going on into good friends. Next chapter, I'm going to give Neville a pairing and it's not one of the usual characters.**

 **Suggestions of a country's name please. I'm thinking Osgiliath, the Citadel of the Stars. Not very original but I am an LOTR Fan addict.**

 **Friendships, buildings, relationships next chapter. More Alleia and Harrold. Also we'll see more of Illidan.**

 **Two surprises maybe will be showing next chappie.**

 **PS: Lustmaster. Stay away from me you sicko!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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Neville remained silent as he placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of his old friend as they watched the fifty-six corpses covered by white shrouds set aside in a corner while a hundred and forty-six more are being treated by the healers at the larger part of the clearing.

War has always been a terrible mistress and can be labeled as the worst of things despite victory. As he accompanied the Templar Grandmaster walking along the bed after bed filled with wounded men-at-arms and knights, Neville can't help but pity his old friend.

He may be the Templar Grandmaster now but a part of him will always be Harry Potter, the chivalric Gryffindor who would jump into the middle of a spell if only it could protect someone he would deem precious to him. And all these men right now hurt, Neville knew hurt his best friend more than he would admit to them. Ironically it also goes the other way around. The men are not blind to the care that their leader had for their welfare and that earned Harrold his men's loyalty to the point that before their death, not one Templar ran even as they are swarmed by Saracens, even as Harrold fell with three arrows on the chest and a dagger on his eye.

"Neville, go check on the captives that we rescued," said Harrold monotonely to him. "Thank you for keeping an eye and worrying on me but it won't do you any good if you simply stand there doing nothing. Make yourself useful and try to do something nice to those Sentinels. They need all the help they can get,"

Neville isn't surprised that Harrold noticed him hovering over him as a mother hen and promptly bowed to the Templar Grandmaster before walking off to another part of the clearing where the prisoner Sentinels have been set a place aside. Many of them have been found on the next two days when Tyrande and Shandris' Watchers accompanied by companies of Light Cavalry and knights scoured every inch of Felwood that are known to Night Elven maps massacring the Satyr tribes that remained and posed a threat. There on the camps they found many of the Sentinels and the servants they had that are stationed on the garrisons' that the Kaldorei maintained on Felwood. They had surrendered when the former Satyr King marched into their outposts with his army and demanded their laying of arms instead of being killed. Knowing their fate though, Neville can't help but wonder if death would have been a better option.

All of them had been used as breeders and playthings by their Satyr captives, not one have been spared on the accursed act they had to comply into to survive. More than one have committed suicide once word got out that the Satyr army have been defeated due to their shame. The rest despite their kindreds' efforts and assurances that they didn't look at them less, stayed away from their kin. It was this reasoning that Harrold had alloted a separate camp for them instead of joining with the rest of the Sentinels. Somehow they felt more at ease beside the Templar knights instead of the other Night Elves.

This of course finally prompted to Harrold and those with them who can cast magic to cast the permanent translation charm to the Kaldorei who wished to talk and understand them. Thankfully, other than the minor discomfort, the Kaldorei didn't react badly much to Harrold's relief when he shared with them the first contact he made with Tyrande Whisperwind. It made things easier for everyone now that they can understand one another.

"Neville!" a familiar cheerful voice brought the Templar out of his musings as a blur of violet appeared on his vision, and before he knew it, two slender arms encircled his armor.

"Hey there Jaelyn," greeted Neville. Despite himself, the Templar second-in-command can't help but smile as he returned the gesture of the person hugging him.

Jaelyn Eversong had been one of the first Night Elves that had been captured ever since the crowning of the Satyr King. She is no Sentinel, but simply a gardener at one of the outposts. Only a few decades older than Arko'Narin, the young elf had been forced to watch as the Sentinels guarding her outposts have been violated in front of her while the Satyrs hanged them before they violated her too. She had been one of the breeders that they had found when Tyrande and the Templars raided the Satyr village she was in. It was Neville who had rescued her and since then, the young elf had been following him around. It didn't help that he admitted to her that he's also interested in plants and if not for the fact that she was nervous on entering the Templar and human camps, she would have been glued at his side.

Despite her ordeal though, Jaelyn still had beauty in spades. Unlike the Sentinels she lacked the traditional tattoos of the bear claws on her face making it looked unblemished. She had silver blue eyes that glow like her people and despite some scarring on her body thanks to Satyr claws, she is mostly intact. However the most recognizable about her is her hair. Instead of the violet, blue and green which is most prominent and common among Night Elven women, Jaelyn had teal colored hair which fell into straight strands on her hips. All in all she is a beautiful specimen altogether. It didn't help that modesty is not an issue for her like her kind and nearly gave Neville a nosebleed when she hugged him for the first time wearing an attire that on Neville's exaggerating opinion covered only her chest and her ass.

"She missed you, you know," a musical voice spoke making Neville unclasp Jaelyn's arms who pouted at the action before bowing to the silver-haired Kaldorei who approached them.

"My lady," greeted Neville. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect to see you here High Priestess,"

"No please, its alright. I'm visiting my people that have suffered under the Satyrs' hands. It is partially my fault since I am their leader after all. It's only right that I see what my "good" leadership had resulted into,"

Neville did not miss the sarcasm on her voice when she said "good leadership". It is obvious to anyone listening to her that she is blaming herself for the sufferings of her Sentinels. The slumped posture, the weary and tired eyes begging for forgiveness every time it landed on the younger Kaldorei still wrapped around Neville, the face that seemed to age decades, very different from the reckless and confident Priestess that Neville had fought with, driving the Sentinels and the human army to fight harder for simply being there.

Despite himself, Neville can't help but connect the lines of similarity between this gorgeous creature and his commander. There parallelism that he found quite astonishing even for him. They are almost the same, caring too much for the people under them and blaming themselves even at situations that they have no power to change or control. Somehow the only difference between them is the simple fact that Harrold is patient and calculating when angered while Alleia is reckless and dashing. It would be quite interesting if the two of them got together. Maybe Alleia can finally spark the flames inside Harrold again. Its only time that the Grandmaster finally found some romance into his life and Neville can't help but believe that he finally got the perfect candidate not two feet away from him.

"I see," nodded Neville at the High Priestess' words. "It's not your fault my lady. It's theirs. You can't truly expect to know every single move that your enemies' race come up with. You did your duty and you did it well my lady. There is nothing to be ashamed of. If you want to blame someone, blame those who in fact did the act. You have delivered justice to them High Priestess. Stop dwelling it on any longer. Scars when rubbed again and again festers after all,"

Alleia merely looked at him quizzically bearing an amused face. "You Templars are quite a knowledgeable people you know. Sometimes even I when talking with your Grandmaster wonder if I am talking to a scholar instead of a warrior,"

Despite himself Neville can't help but laugh aloud at her words. "A warrior cannot be expected to be called a warrior if he doesn't know how to use the muscles gifted to him inside his body my lady. How can he claim to be a warrior if he doesn't even know how to use the proper muscle inside his body? Being a knight isn't only about learning to wield a sword after all. It's finding good reason to draw our sword in the first place,"

"Very honorable," snarked Alleia at him waving off the protest that every Templar spouts when people reprimand them every time they spout their words and statements about honor. "Well I need to go now. Lots of things to do. I believe I can expect you at the victory feast later?"

"Of course my lady," nodded Neville before a bright idea came into his mind. "And don't worry, I'll make sure that the Grandmaster also attend later, even if I had to drag his arse from the bed,"

He sniggered inwardly as a faint red light adorned the High Priestess' cheeks as she closed and opened her mouth like a gaping goldfish before opting to simply nod to him once more and run off. This time Neville chuckled out loud before a sudden pain on his shin made him yelp and hop as he stared playfully at the remaining Kaldorei glaring at him.

"What did you do that for?" demanded Neville in mock anger to his companion. The kick actually didn't hurt, especially with his feet covered in half-armor riding boots.

"Stop bullying High Priestess Alleia!" scolded the young elf. "Everyone is already teasing her about marrying your Grandmaster and she didn't need to hear it from you too,"

"But you had to admit Jaelyn. The two of them looked good together don't you?" asked Neville stepping back as Jaelyn glared at him even more.

It is true though. Ever since the end of the Battle of Felwood Border, as the Night Elves like to call them. Rumours immediately started like wildfire among both Kaldorei and human ranks that the High Priestess of the Moon and the Grandmaster of the Templar Order had a thing going on between them. Somehow that rumour were faced with different reactions. Many were pleased that such a union if possible could come into order while the more traditional ones were simply accepting, saying that a marriage between the two could cement the alliance between the two races. Thanks to their courage and brilliant leadership, many actually loved the two leaders and almost all didn't dream to come between such a possibility if the two chose it.

Of course when he confronted Harrold about it, he merely got an incredulous look of answer saying clearly: _"Have you gone daft?"_ in such a simple look.

"You're a mean bully you know that?" grumbled the Night Elf.

"What can I say? I just want the best for my-,"

SPLAT!

Neville is cut off as he got a faceful of mud on his face, the force of the blow sending him off-balance and crashing to the ground. Immediately the laughters of Jaleyn and the rest of the ex-prisoners echoed in the background as Neville groaned and pulled himself up from the ground quite dazedly as he glared at the perpetrator.

"You're going to pay for that you know," growled the Templar second-in-command as the Kaldorei gardener merely rose an eyebrow painfully before lobbing another fistful of mud at him.

 _"Oh she's going to pay alright,"_ thought Neville as he rolled to avoid the projectile while at the same time kneading a mud ball he could lob at his friend.

In his fun, he failed to notice Harrold and the council of Priestesses talking to one another while sparing glances at the two of them.

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"You had to admit Fleur, we're lost," whined Cedric as they reached another dead end. Why are there so many dead ends on this place anyway?

It had been disaster after disaster ever since they sailed from the island. They had been caught on a storm right just after they passed a kilometer from where they are on tracking the Grandmaster. They had barely survived that ordeal. Their little makeshift boat is slammed around like plastic under the influence of the waves and they had been lucky that they managed to find land before the boat finally broke, as if its final effort is to keep them safe at the cost of its life.

Wet and tired, Cedric and the three scouts with him wandered around until they reached this heavy looking gate who looked abandoned. Of course being a wizard in his previous life, all it takes for the ex-Hogwarts Champion was a simple "Alohomora" and voila! Dozens of arrows rained from in front of them. They are lucky again that none got skewered at that initial attack.

What followed next as they tried to wander the insides of the cave looking for food, water and shelter is waves of waves of what seemed to be half-mad violet-skinned women either too fully armored or too scantily clad as they passed every corner. Cedric instead of killing them used non-lethal force and made sure that his men remembered it too almost hearing Draco's words about "Do not antagonize the locals". By the look of hatred these women is giving him, they ae sure to be the locals. It isn't that hard actually bringing them down. Between Fleur and him, it had been plain easy to sent dozens of stunners sending them down like bowling pins. Those that get past them received the courtesy of the blunted parts of his knight's swords and the bashing of their shields.

However no matter how many of these people Cedric and his friends knocked out, the single problem ever since they entered remained. They are still lost.

The prison, as he guessed this place is with all the iron bars and magic wards that surround some of the most hideous and deformed creatures he saw in his long life, is built like a maze. Even the Point-Me-Spell enacted by him as a precaution to help them navigate is proving useless. Dead end after dead end they meet seeing no finish on the corridors they wandered. He can't help but wonder if this is the place where they will die, starving to death.

 _"What luck! To be given two times in life for a second chance and here I am about to have a third,"_ thought Cedric as he sent another stunner at one of the cloaked women that got her right in the face.

They had finally back-tracked and reached this empty hall where dark robed and caped guards stood by the dozens guarding some kind of hallway that looked important. The moment they saw him and his retinue, they immediately charged like blood-hounded weasels smelling meat for the first time that even the knights with him had to join the fray so that they won't get overrun. Thankfully they managed to procure some metal poles on the way here and with Fleur's aesthetic magic, managed to shape them into blunt swords. Now they are hacking the locals with gusto sending one after another into Hypnos' realm.

"How many more?" panted Fleur as she sent another stunner that made a direct hit, evidence of a yelp that followed it.

"Not many left," answered Cedric rising from where he is crouched sending two more red bolts that hit different targets before shooting another one at his side at one who had attempted to jump over the shield wall that his men had made.

"Good," answered the blonde sending her own stunners as they advanced. "I'm nearly exhausted,"

Cedric didn't try to answer any more as the rest of the Teutonic Knights finished the last of the guards with their blunted weapons. "What do you think they have in here that they would guard it so furiously?" asked Cedric taking what could only be a chain with many keys from one of the violet-skinned women knocked out on the ground.

"I don't know. Must be something or someone highly valuable," shrugged Fleur stepping beside him. "Now hurry up Ced. The faster we get this over with, the faster that we can see if there is an exit on this area!"

"Alright! Alright woman!" snapped the knight trying dozens of keys on the hole. "It's not as easy as it looks and there isn't a label at any of the keys,"

"Hurry! Hurry!"

Opting not to answer, Cedric tried another key and another, and another, and finally another, and then smirked in victory as the familiar sound of "click" came on the last gate. Just as the reborn wizard is wondering how he could open the large contraption, he nearly got a heart attack that instead of waiting to be opened, the thing instead moved on its own revealing a dozen more gates and hundreds of traps that can skewer even a knight of full armor. The traps moved by itself shifting over one another until it finally revealed a corridor over a large room where a singular green stone pillar stood and on its side lay one of the weirdest humanoids that the Teutonic Knight got the displeasure to see.

He is gray-skinned, the muscles on him bulging, showing that he is at the peak of his strength. Tatoos of some arcane sort adorned his chest and he is wearing a blindfold over a headband covering his eyes.

Before Cedric could speak, he is cut off by the person, catching him by surprise as he spoke in English in a deep voice that echoed along the chamber's ends.

"Who enters my domain?"

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"Don't tell me you're nervous?" Harrold can't help but ask amusedly at Alleia who is beside him.

"I'm not!"

"Oh really?" continued Harrold in a teasing tone as the beautiful High Priestess at his side reddened even more.

"I'm not Harrold!"

"Really? Really?"

"Drop it Harrold!" hissed Alleia this time making the Grandmaster of the Templar Order laugh aloud at his small victory over the High Priestess as he returned watching their people gather at the wide clearing below them, most either just sitting at the ground while some of the Kaldorei sat at the tree branches to look at the two leaders who will be making a speech before the feast.

Normally at his time, Harrold would have found himself sitting on the lower dais instead of the high table he is in right now thanks to his lower rank of a lord. They would also have been hosting a tourney in honor of the massive victory instead of a feast. Alleia herself had told him when he shared this little fact about her that in Night Elven custom, they would have been celebrating with the spirits of trees called "Wisps", dancing till the night becomes day, letting their songs and laughter fill the trees.

As it was, the two agreed on something new for both their people's sakes and instead of either the bloody celebration that knights that Harrold's people were used to, or the quite raucurous tradition of the Night Elves. Harrold and Alleia wanted this celebration both to cement the alliance with their people's and honor their victory as a major gathering instead where everyone can eat and intermingle without causing too much of an activity where accidents and accusations might happen. Sure there may be a dance later but that was all everyone was expecting right now.

Harrold had to give it to the High Priestess, her plans on merging the gap of trust between the two races worked perfectly like a charm. The Night Elves not losing even single one of their warriors during the battle and seeing the larger force of the Satyr army defeated in such a devastating way kicked out any sense of bigotry that they had on the humans from Earth and welcomed them with open arms. When Harrold was told that Night Elves hate Satyrs with a passion, he thought it at first just a puny hatred between the two races and even quite felt morose at killing so many of them to gain the affection of the Night Elves to his people. However seeing what the cat demons did to their captives, any notion of remorse was kicked out of the Grandmaster and he now quite felt justified that his actions were not bad and a stain on his honor.

"Don't worry, you're going to do great," spoke Harrold in a reassuring tone clasping Alleia's hand on his own, giving it a light squeeze to offer his support ignoring the catcalls of both kindred as they also noticed the small sign of affection.

"Thank you," muttered Alleia with a small smile, standing up from where she sat; her white dress clinking on the amount of silver ornaments on it.

Raising her hand to silence the crowd beneath her, Harrold watched Alleia take a deep breathe before speaking out loudly in a clear musical voice that can be heard to the far end of the clearing.

"Welcome! Today we celebrate our victory of the Battle of Felwood. We have once more defeated the Satyr menace that had plagued our land for millenias and crushed them once and for all!"

The crowd immediately cheered at her words as shouts of "Praise to Elune!" and "It is God's will" filled the clearing. Raising her hand again to silence the crowd beneath her, Alleia continued on.

"But despite our victory against the self-proclaimed Night King. Let us also remember those who were lost on the battle and those who have suffered before we managed to rescue them. Let us not the forget the sacrifices made that made such a great victory possible. For now; let's spare a moment of silence for the heroes and the victims that this battle had claimed,"

Everyone remained silent then for a moment as both Kaldorei and humans closed their eyes and prayed to their respective deities. Humans to God and Kaldorei to Elune. Even Harrold closed his eyes as he prayed for the souls of his brave men who had given their all for such a victory to make all this right now possible. He mentally vowed that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

Once everyone finished their prayers, Alleia then continued on.

"Before we start this magnificent feast. I would like to formally welcome all you Terrans on our land formally. We appreciate having you here with us and I can speak for my people as well as myself that we welcome you with open arms to Azeroth,"

Loud shouts echoed among the crowd below as Harry's people cheered hollered and whooped, the knights temporarily forgetting their stature's and ranks as the Sentinels intermingled with them repeating the High Priestess' words of welcome. Some of the bolder Elves even placed kisses on the cheeks of some of the humans leaving a lot of red-faced and blushing young boys behind as the beautiful Elves returned their attention to their Priestess.

Harrold on his seat can't help but smirk at the events below him. He had chosen specifically to temporarily call themselves Terrans in honor of Terra which is another name on Earth. It is simply for him a way of distinguishing themselves from the humans here. It is also a precaution gap in case they would ever meet the local residents. Based on Alleia's descriptions about the human explorers that her people met; the humans here are honorless to the core. Better distinguish themselves now while they still can.

"I would also like to announce the formal declaration of Alliance between the Terrans and the entirety of the Kaldorei. My people! We have separated ourselves so long from the outside world, and yes for good reasons. But these people that have come from another world unto our shores have aided us and asked for nothing to return. They have defeated our most hated foes and have secured peace on Felwood which we have not been able to do for all our long lives. I am willing to offer them the trust of our society and are willing to offer them a home on the Isle of Tears where the rest of them dwells right now. They are nothing like the humans that have kidnapped our sisters. So tell me my people! Will any of you stand with me and fight together hand in hand with our new brothers and sisters against any that threatened our home and lands?!"

"YES! We will fight for you High Priestess!" shouted one of the Sentinels who had been sitting at the trees, her words met with mumbles of approval among the Kaldorei on the crowd.

"Will you offer them aid and a place at our hearths when they ever need of us?"

"Yes we will High Priestess!"

"And when their enemies are at their gates to ransack their lives, their homes and their families. Will you march without question and fight even a losing battle and raise your hand against foes that cannot be beaten to save them?"

"We will High Priestess!"

Harrold merely remained silent, his heart going out to this beautiful Kaldorei woman who had offered them a new home and even offered something that he did not expect. A friend, an ally, a partner and a sister against all odds.

"Do you accept mine and my people's offer Grandmaster?" this time Alleia turned to address him, her voice still echoing on the clearing as every eye turned to him.

"Aye I do," rumbled Harrold nearly shaking on the knees at the High Priestess' declaration as he stood up from where he sat. "And I offer you the same High Priestess to your people. We Terrans will stand with you for good or for ill. Our swords are your swords and your home will be our home. A man can ask for no greater honor than the trust you have given to us and I will stand with you High Priestess Alleia. Will you stand with me?!" This time Harrold roared at his people who immediately shouted, hands and fists raised in the air.

"AYE!"

"FOR AZEROTH! FOR AZEROTH AND THE ALLIANCE!" yelled Alleia at his side yelling at the top of her lungs that even the birds on the trees flew.

"FOR AZEROTH! FOR THE ALLIANCE!" the shout went from end to end as every living soul of both Kaldorei and Terran heed the call and cemented their fate as a united people.

Drums immediately filled the air and finally the feast started as everyone dove into the food filling quite proud of themselves as the two races intermingled. Wine filled the tables by the gallons and the exotic food are sampled by the humans with the help of their new companions who took great delight on pranking and teasing them. The most targeted of these pranks by the Sentinels and Watchers are the uptight knights whom many can be found later either blushing to the roots of their hair with all the flirting or simply knocked out on where they sat.

In all this activity Harrold spent all his time with Alleia, not leaving the High Priestess' side for a minute as different people congratulated them for a great speech. Even Tyrande came and didn't call him human as a start for once. She even surprised him when she kissed his cheeks throwing a challenging smirk it seemed to Alleia who had a frosty glare trained at her friend before smiling again as Harrold looked at her questioningly. He made a mental note to dig what is causing the rift betwen the two later on.

"What is this wine?" Harrold finally can't help but ask as he took a sip from his goblet, grimacing at how strong it is. Even the strongest wine that King Baldwin the Second had cannot compare to this.

"Tis Darnassian wine," answered Alleia with an amused glance from her own goblet while she munched a grape. "We grew it on the Isle of Darnassus North-west of here. You liked it,"

"That would be an understatement," replied Harrold feeling quite light-headed already at half a goblet. "How old is it?"

"Give or take four millennia," shrugged the High Priestess as she sipped on her own.

"Oh,"

"Yes oh," the Night Elf replied with a giggle.

"My men would be having a hard time keeping themselves intact I'm sure," muttered Harrold already feeling blurry as he sipped again.

"Yes I'm sure they are," chuckled Alleia. "Look," she pointed at the clearing.

The sight in fact is quite funny. Too drunk with the wine, the humans have finally let go of their inhibitions and have surrendered to their primal instincts on acts that would have made Harrold froth at the mouth at reprimanding them for their lack of control. The Kaldorei females also quite tipsy have also taken advantage of the lack of males on their society, took their frustrations on the Terrans that have not been knocked out on the wine. To say that the celebration turned out to be one large group of love-making would be an understatement.

"Oh just leave them. They need to unwind now and then," waved Harrold off quite drunkenly. A sign that he's also nearly close to cloud eight. A smooth gentle hand made him look at the most angelic face he had ever seen in his entire life, her violet hair framing her silver and blue eyes.

"You look quite tense my lord. Do you want me to relieve some tension there?"

If Harrold was coherent, he would have bolted as fast as a deer from the sultry voice this female was using. As it was, he merely nodded drunkenly and moaned as soft lips met his tasting like Darnassian wine and wildberries. He could feel her soft body sitting on his lap and he isntinctively raised his hands to her rear and hair, marveling at how soft it was.

Let's just say that during the entirety of the celebration, Harrold James Potter acted not like the honorable Grandmaster he is, as he cemented his union with the High Priestess of the Kaldorei under the influence of wine.

He's so screwed.

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 **So that's that. I'm sorry if I didn't rush the story as promised. I just watched the movie Warcraft and it was awesome! hihihi. I think Im going to be sick if they ever make a sequel. Alleria would be there. I adore the Windrunner sisters and Im going to watch her sacrifice herself.**

 **Please review and fav.**

 **I had to wonder. What is the difference between Rated T and M?**

 **Everyone keeps telling me to press the bubble to reply to reviews. I dont see any bubble here. I want to badmouth Lustmaster personally but I cant!**

 **Ideas are still juggling in my head what to name Harrold's city. Opinions are really wanted.**

 **Ive read Newcomers again andd I pity Alexstrasza. Any facts about her first capture will help. I think Im going to include her here and let the Templars save her butt. And also character traits about her please. Ive seen her pictures by Mimic. I had to ask, did they really rape her? I mean, how the hell did they force a dragon to have that humanoid form? And how did they capture her in the first place.**

 **First things first though. I guess you can guess who is Neville's partner now. She is the champion of Darnassus I believe in WOW, but here I prefer her as a gardener...for now. Focusing more on Harrold and his people next chapter. That's a promise. By the way, the floating city idea is a good one. I remember watching Legend of Zu mountain where the schools are floating.**

 **Please review. Hey, Im worried. My reviews are catching up to my favs. Somebody told me it is a bad thing. Is it?**

 **And yes, Harrold and Alleia just did you-know-what. I'm afraid to write lemon. I blush every time I do..sorry ihihihi. Im not Cassie remember? She's good at it, not me.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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 _Five months since the Battle of Felwood._

Harrold massaged the top of his temple feeling already the beginnings of stress for the upcoming sunrise as the sounds of the people outside his home awakening starts. Already the reports of everything for the week began filling in before he even managed to refresh himself from his bed and the Templar Grandmaster can already see a long day ahead of him merely sitting on the desk reading the reports. He had always hated Mondays even before in his previous life. They are usually signs that answer how much homework his professors wanted done for the weekend. A thing that most students hate with a passion.

Pulling his morning robe around him, Harrold strode towards the open veranda of his office as he watched the sun slowly rise giving Vroengard a beautiful sort of view. Yes, after much debating and arguments, the Terran leadership have finally agreed to call their island that. The Isle of Vroengard. Sounds intimidating if he would be honest with himself. They had also named the city Minas Ithil, the Tower of the Rising Sun. That one was suggested by Fred who it seems had managed to smuggle Tolkien's books for some reason from where his previous life which was a great sense of inspiration for many of the current residents. He had to give it to Fred to have the audacity to even prank the immortals.

Right now though, Harrold savored the peace that the early morning gave him as he sipped on the sweet brew coffee that his new secretary, Jaelyn Eversong had made. The girl had volunteered for the job when Draco asked for applicants on the hated position. She had surprised everyone, including Harrold on how good she was at it and Draco had even taken her under his wing as his apprentice.

It amazed Harrold how different things are right now compared to before. Normally at his previous life, every time Harrold looked out on his Veranda on Jerusalem; it would be because he would be watching and worrying for any dust clouds on the distance that can either signify an approaching rider or an attack. Right now though, he is simply watching for the sake of watching the new home they had established here.

Alleia had fulfilled to the last word of her promise and Ancients; which is humongous trees that terrified most of the people here on Vroengard when they saw the magical beings worked on expanding the island that they are in. Now thanks to their work and convincing most of his people that magic is not some type of demon sorcery that the power hungry priests are preaching, Harrold and his friends finally revealed their secret that they can do magic.

However even he was caught off guard when he got cheers of approval instead of screams of "heretic" and "Demon" from the people. Again Harrold mentally thanked Lady Fate for sending people with characters that were indeed worthy of a chance to rebirth. After their declaration followed the fastest building of a city in the entire two lives that Harrold witnessed.

Completely freed from the limitations of what he can do, it had been fairly easy to find and build materials. Permanent Transfiguration of pebbles into blocks of stone made finding a supply irrelevant for the moment until Harrold agreed to Draco's argument that the people need to work to have a sense of belonging and establish their life again. Thankfully the white mountain on the island proved to be the perfect quarry. Unlike normal stone that ther old world had, the stones they mined on the mountain were pure white and lighter than a normal rock may be. It was also stronger and more easy to shape than the ones back on Earth. Technically it was the white rock which is the main reason why they named their city Minas Ithil. The White Tower.

Normally building a city and maintaining it is an undertaking that cannot be achieved in a year, much less five months. However with thirty thousand quite eager hands and with the aid of magic, Harrold and his people made the impossible, possible.

Tall walls and towers now surround Minas Ithil and the thousand houses and mansions that it held inside. Draco who had been the one to plan the dimensions and spacing of the aforementioned city had designed it so that the white houses instead of accommodating much space; were instead narrow and stood up like miniature towers with enough rooms for different Houses to be satisfied. In fact, even with the large amount of houses that Minas Ithil accomodate inside its walls, there is large parts of it still empty for "future investments" according to Draco. Sewage systems that would normally be a nightmare to create was installed easily with the aid of magic. All that the previous wizards and witches did was to use their magic to hollow out canals and waterways under the ground that connects to each house. It was tedious work but it evidently pays off. Many of the people practically worshipped the ground that Harrold walked in at. It was also during this time that they discovered the underground streams underneath their city which was a stroke of luck. Wells were immediately installed and even a public bath house which the smaller folks jumped gladly into.

However their greatest achievement somehow was the White Tower of the Grandmaster which was made taller than even the mountain that they used as their quarry. Most of the tower's stones are mostly made from Transfigured stone and warded by magic. It was what their city was named after and had been gifted to Harrold by his people much to his chagrin and protest. The lower levels housed the entirety of the Templar Order while the upper levels held whatever knowledge that they managed to scrunch up from where they came. They maybe given a new chance for a new home but Earth would always remain in their memories. The upper levels also contained the personal suite, office and rooms of Harrold in case he ever made a family, which many guessed were not that far off if the rumors about what happened between him and the High Priestess of the Moon were right.

All in all, Minas Ithil was prospering quite nicely.

The Templar Grandmaster can't help but smile as the sun slowly revealed itself on the horizon bathing the land with its light. The massive farms a few kilometers of Minas Ithil showing quite proudly its golden ready-to-be-harvested-fields gleamed on the morning light, making quite an impression at anyone who would be watching from Harrold's strategic point right now.

There are three other things that Harrold had built outside the walls of Minas Ithil. The farmlands of Highgarden where Neville stayed to supervise the crops and harvests, the training grounds of Mt. Vesuvius, a small volcano where the Teutonic Knights made their home and where the people of Vroengard train in the army on three rotating shifts, and the harbors of the Grey Havens which is Vroengard's main port and the one that ferried people from the island to the docks of Darkshore and Darnassus.

Having Neville around have always been a boon for Harrold. In his old life where the poor boy was bullied and laughed at due to his chosen field of Herbology, which many males consider sissy, he was an outcaste and unwanted. On his second life at Jerusalem as a Templar, his skills were put to good use and it was his knowledge about plants that elevated him to his position before the fall of Jerusalem and they were forced to defend the slums of Acre where his talents were wasted thanks to lack of space.

However, right now on a place where he could bring out his full skill of magic and wit, the Templar Grandmaster isn't surprised that Neville instantly became a celebrity with his betrothed, Jaelyn Eversong who came back with him. Harrold never worried about food ever since they came here since Neville is with them. The land that is now called Highgarden is in fact before a rocky land that nothing, not even grass grew. It took Neville a week to simply crack the gravel and rocks and another week to fertilize the ground with his magic, acre upon acre of dead and useless land. With much perseverance and patience. It is now acre after acre of golden fields filled with different kind of crops and fruit trees. Multitudes of wildflowers sang by Jaelyn is said to fill the roads heading towards the estate hence why it is called Highgarden.

Yes, Jaelyn and most of the Night Elves that had been "victimized" by the Satyrs came home with them. If Harrold would be more precise, it was nearly eight hundred in number, a great boon to balance the much needed male to female ration of the Terrans. With most of the newly revived falling on the male side, Harrold had been racking his brains ever since they got here how to solve that dilemma. The Night Elf victims answered that problem for him.

Shamed at what happened to them, many much to the Grandmaster's surprise followed him back here at Vroengard looking for a new life. That's one of the reasons why Harrold had the harbor of Grey Haven built. Despite them traveling here, many of them still wanted to see the place where they had dwelt for millennia. Thus Harrold spare resources for them to build homesteads near the shores in view of the larger continent where they can still see their home, and at the same time be simply sailing distances only away from it.

The port, a combination of Night Elven and human architecture is in fact one of a kind. Graceful spires made by stone replaced the wooden design that the Night Elves used mostly on building their homes. This gave the structures at the Grey Havens a welcoming feeling. building after building a combination of strength and grace while trees of different kinds still filled the city per Night Elven custom. Harrold didn't blame them for filling nearly every inch of the Harbor space with plants. If there is one race that the Grandmaster had seen so attached to nature. It is the Kaldorei. Heck, it's like every one of them had the attitude of thirty green-peace humans back on Earth, bunched together.

As for the Kaldorei living there ;they had proven themselves useful to the society that they had joined in. Sure they may not be contributing anything, but the ideas that they had about ship designs are uniquely staggering. In fact if the newly refined designs they proposed are proven true, the combined build of Terran and Kaldorei ships would be one of a kind on the seas. Something that Harrold made a mental note to attend once they planned to show it off.

Pulling his eyes away from the permanent home of the Kaldorei in his new homeland. Harrold moved his gaze away from the harbor and focused on the final settlement outside of Vroengard's walls. Callahorn, the home of the Teutonic Knights and the training ground of the citizens of Vroengard.

Harrold's not dumb. He knew that despite the quite large number of humans that have been revived here, that they are still lesser in number than most of the other races. Hell, he just met three different ones on the very little timespan he is here. If there's one thing that he is sure of, is the sad fact loved making borders on themselves. And when groups and borders are formed, chaos is never far away.

He had learned that lesson very well from his previously life. Humans fighting against one another for grouping themselves into different religions, skin color, and even birthplaces. Blood had been spilled in floods for the most idiotic of reasons and Harrold doesn't want to imagine how much harder it would be not to fight one another if not only your enemy looks differently from you, but a different specie altogether. War is inevitable, the only questions is when?

That's the reason why Harrold commissioned to build the fortress of Callahorn. It serves both as a defense against anyone who planned to strike Minas Ithil and can also be taken as a place of refuge for survivors in case the primary city of Vroengard fell. However its main contains two purposes that Harrold made sure the two knights in charge of the city remember.

The first and foremost are the training of the population of Vroengard. Sure, Harrold had a lot of knights at his disposal and with their squires and men-at-arms put together, he had quite a decent large force. However the Grandmaster won't have it that his people would be simply sheep in case the army fell. He had seen what ransacking armies do to the citizens once victory is achieved and Harrold didn't like it one bit. That's the reason why he at least made it a mandate requirement for all the males and any willing females to train in a three month rotation at Callahorn to better prepare themselves in case the worst is to come. Not that he's expecting it soon, but Harrold would rather be safe than sorry.

Their training would not exactly be brutal. Designed more like the old legions of Rome, they are trained to work as a group and a cohesive unit. The art of fighting that many knights practice are not taught there. Most people simply do not have the time or patience on it. Not to mention that learning the art of the knights would require living in honor which many don't bother with. Instead they are taught drills. A stab into the ribs, leg or arm by a gladius can incapacitate even the most hardy of men, and that is all those that came to Callahorn learned. To sum it all; its simply according to Fred paraphrasing it: "Hide to your shield and keep stabbing while hoping that the man beside you guard your ass". Grouped into Legions, even a small group of twenty fishermen armed with knives and wickerwick shields can decimate an angry group of fifty murlocs with no losses.

With the proper attire and equipment, Harrold planned to make the Legions his primary forces in the outbreak of a war against his people with the knights as his backup and special forces that can be moved anywhere and anytime. It miffed the knights and most of their men-at-arms when they are informed about this new form of fighting where they are not the most primary forces at a pitched battle. However the fact that they won't have to deal with showering arrows calmed most of them and they soon accepted the new ideal gracefully.

A roar from the sky brought the Templar Grandmaster out of his musings and despite himself, he can't help but smile as a creature as large as a horse flew over Minas Ithil throwing off a chirp that sounded like a horse strangling to death in its happiness as it hovered over the dais where Harrold is, its scaly wings batting the air into large gales as its blue eyes pored over him inquisitively.

"Hey Sapphira. Out hunting again I see," greeted Harrold stepping to the side of the structure to touch the hovering dragon on the snout who then made a humming sound in pleasure as his hand touched its blue snout.

Yes, dragons. Mt. Vesuvius at the side of Callahorn is full of them, at least young ones for now. He and the magicians with them had been entrusted with at least three hundred eggs and they had opted to simply let them be kept warm on the caverns inside a volcano. Three weeks after the Battle of Felwood, the first dragons emerged on this world under the care of the Terrans. Under their watch, the dragons are a lot more docile than their forebearers and Daphne Greengrass and her students when not in duty took the time to try and teach them to understand their language. Dragons are magical creatures to the last bit and Harrold isn't surprised that they are learning though the progress is slow.

Harrold smiled at the thought of the deity that brought them here. Not only did he and his people got the final chance of rebirth, but also the magical animals along with it. Now, it is no longer surprising to see young dragons flying around with hippogriffs on the air or wandering herds of unicorn on the forest, bowstruckles running around being chased by pissed off Treants and snap dragons playing with wisps. Heck the Blast-Ended Skrewts are even present living on the shallows of Eastern Vroengard scaring half to death the Murlocs that dwelt there.

Patting the snout of the beautiful blue dragon once more. Harrold watched it purr once more before backflipping on the air to fly back to its home. Yes, life is good for now. Harrold just wondered how long it will hold.

Moving his eyes in the direction of Kalimdor, Harrold wondered how are the High Priestess and his best friend Tyrande. He can't help but worry that the two are still cold with one another. The thing that had happened between him and the High Priestess became a blessing in disguise. It became common knowledge that the Templar Grandmaster and the High Priestess slept with one another during the Feast of of course were many discontents. However it also brought low the fear that many humans and Kaldorei had about having relationships with one another. In fact, Harrold got a feeling that it was their union that finally stepped in a new age for their people. He just wondered that if they had stayed with one another, would he have married her? He liked her, more than he would admit to himself. The Templar Grandmaster sighed. Standing here thinking about it would end him up nowhere. Better that he sent her a message to let her know that he haven't forgotten her.

"Expecto Patronum!"

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Tyrande watched silently as her old friend Alleia finished her daily prayers to Elune and strode towards the gardens as her wont ever since she visited the place with Harrold and sat on ground, pulling her skirt over her to keep it from being dirty before raising her hands to take the canvas and paint she placed there yesterday and as before, began stroking the brush gently on the empty canvas.

Painting, another thing that the Terrans at Vroengard Isle had introduced to the Night Elves. It intrigued a lot of their people about this new art and many of the younger Kaldorei with an artistic mind jumped on the art with a gusto. As for Alleia, it surprised everyone that the High Priestess had an aptitude talent on it.

"Tyra, I know you're there. Quit hiding yourself and step into the light," commanded the High Priestess making Tyrande roll her eyes as she emerged from the shadow of the tree she is leaning at.

"You always know when I'm around," pouted the Priestess as she pulled her own skirt to her thighs to sit on the ground with her best friend. "I still don't know how you do it,"

"When you have become friends with one of the greatest Sentinels in our time, you tend to pick up a trick of two on identifying her,"

"And I believe that you won't tell me what trick it is?" asked Tyrande. A smile is her only answer from her old friend.

"Figures," she snorted as she settled on sitting peacefully with the High Priestess, enjoying her companionship as she watched her paint a daffoldil flower on the canvas. It almost looked real with almost all the details being so gradually followed by Alleia. Tyrande had no idea how her friend does it.

Five months, five long months ever since they said there farewells with their human friends from the Battle of Felwood and where the public knowledge that Alleia slept with Harrold were born. Many of the Kaldorei simply left it be while a small part of the population scorned the High Priestess because of having intercourse with a human.

Tyrande however can't help but worry for her friend. Until that day of celebration, they had seen no human visit Moonglade again. Apparently Alleia must have harbored some deep feelings for Harrold and Tyrande worried for her a lot as she seemed to wither into herself these past few months as no word came out of Vroengard other than the daily merchants from the isle that sell their produce at the mainland. No word came from Harrold whatsoever. The best they got from the merchants is that the Grandmaster is trying to do many things at the same time.

At first Tyrande thought that her friend's solemn attitude was simply because of the stress of rebuilding Felwood again. It seemed that with the death of their king, many Satyr clans made safety a top priority and had vacated the area to retreat back to the barren lands south. Creating a community again on that accursed place was no easy thing and the logistics itself was a nightmare. Couple that with the stress of dealing with the malcontent who wanted to wage war against the Terrans made Alleia a very busy person the last few months.

However now that things are slowly settling down, the withering of her friend did not lessen and if possible, it even worsened. It is this time that Tyrande bridged the gap between them made by jealousy for liking the same guy and slowly rebuilt their friendship to what it once was. Now that she thought about it. She can't help but think how petty the reasons of her cold shoulder to Alleia. They're Night Elves and they're best friends by Elune! They can simply share Harrold and be done with their problem. Besides, Tyrande had always wondered what Alleia's lips tasted like.

So that is how they found themselves now. Tyrande is happy to see that Alleia accepted her wordless apology when they became relaxed with one another again and enjoy each other's company. Tyrande admits that she really miss her best friend, it just didn't feel the same when no one like Alleia bother her to be more formal and to keep up with her duties to be a Priestess while at the same time being wild and free.

"Tyra?"

"Hmm..,"

"I need a favor from you," spoke Alleia in a morose tone making Tyrande pop open an eye to look at her old friend who had stopped painting and are instead focusing her eyes on her lap while wringing her fingers.

"Is there a problem Alleia?" asked Tyrande wondering what the High Priestess is so nervous about.

"No, no nothing's wrong. You know I trust you right Tyra? More than anyone or anything on this world,"

"Yes," blinked the Priestess quite confused what made Alleia to act so flustered. She had turned scarlet for some reason and Tyrande for a moment feared that the High Priestess would admit that she loved her in a romantic kind of way. That would be very awkward despite the fact that same gender mating is common on her kind.

"I- I haven't told anyone about this and I want you to be the one to know about it before anyone else does," mumbled the High Priestess.

Tyrande merely remained silent as she waited for her leader to go on.

"I'm pregnant Tyra," finally said Alleia in a voice so small that Tyrande barely heard it. As it is, the Priestess can't help but snort at her best friend.

"Don't be daft Alleia! You can't be pregnant, none of our race can be, not since the Long Vigil had started at least. Surely you're jesting?"

Alleia much to Tyrande's horror curled up into a fetal position as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her long silver hair falling in strands to her face before slowly blinking and morphed back to its original color of violet. Now that alarmed Tyrande. Alleia's control on her hair color is absolute that even a battle wound didn't faze her control on her magic. She only changed hair unconsciously when either she's obviously rattled or severely distressed. On her long life, Tyrande had only seen Alleia change color twice. During the planting of Nordassil and the leaving of her father who slept with the other druids. To see her like this now froze Tyrande literally to a standstill.

"You're not kidding are you?" Tyrande asked after a moment of silence and Alleia in front of her merely nodded silently in affirmation.

"By Elune Alleia! How did that happen?" she burst forth and unable to control herself began walking back and forth trying to understand what how did it happen. Of course she knew how, but the how on the pregnant part held no answers for her. "Are you absolutely certain on this?"

"Yes," answered the High Priestess on a choked sob touching her midriff with a hand. "I could feel the little one already inside me draining my magic and making it his own. I'm not sure if I am going to be overjoyed or not. I'm worried Tyra,"

"No surprises there," grunted Tyrande. "The Conclave won't be happy with this. Especially with the fact of who the father is. Many of them agreed that we can mate with the Terrans on the thought that they won't be able to impregnate on any of us. Once word got out that you have become the Grandmaster's child, I won't know how they will react. It would be even worse since it is not pure elven. There has never been a half-elven before in our race,"

"The people will cast him or her out won't they?" Alleia asked mournfully.

"Truly Alleia, I don't know the answer to that myself," sighed Tyrande flopping beside her best friend feeling unusually tired all of a sudden. "Our people are currently too entrenched on our ways and traditions and I wonder how they would react with this new information. It has the possibility to change our entire community Alleia," before stopping as a thought came to her. "May I?" the Priestess looked at her superior asking for permission to touch her womb with a glance of her eyes.

"Sure," smiled Alleia removing her hand and knees from her stomach to give Tyrande access to her stomach.

Reaching out, Tyrande let her hands graze her best friend's womb and nearly jumped back in alarm as she felt the familiar tingle of another life that seemed to touch her magic with its own. Oh yes, her best friend's pregnant alright. Despite her acceptance already about things between Harrold and Alleia, Tyrande can't help but be jealous to her best friend. She immediately squashed the negative feelings on her chest. It is not Alleia's fault that she had fallen for Harrold. The guy is a walking statue of chivalry and honor. Something very rare to be found on males. It is no great wonder that kind-hearted and silent Alleia would fall for him. The High Priestess had given so much already to her people. Its high time that she earned some love on her own despite Tyrande's musings.

"You must be proud Alleia," she finally said patting her friend's belly.

"Thank you Tyra. I am. Though I never expected this. It's almost weird to think that I am bearing a child of a person I barely knew. Still, whatever may befall. This little one will always belong to me and I will defend him when the time comes that my pregnancy will be revealed,"

"And I'll stand with you Alleia," Tyrande smiled at her best friend. "I had to ask though. Are you going to tell Harrold about this?"

"By Elune no!" Alleia snapped. "I would tell him when we meet face to face again. I don't want him to know. His sense of honor would make him tell everyone about it to make the Kaldorei mated with other humans aware,"

"And is that a bad thing?" asked Tyrande.

"For now," answered Alleia. "The Alliance between Kaldorei and the Terrans are quite new and many of us despite no longer wary of them are still taking time to adjust. Anything big and life changing might caused the fragile Alliance we have to break and I don't want that,"

"Is it really that important that we have an Alliance with their people Alleia?"

The High Priestess merely looked at the sky, the first light of dawn just rising. "I am not entirely sure Tyrande but something tells me that having this Alliance with them can change not only our people and the entirety of Azeroth, but also the rest of other worlds. Elune showed me that at least in a dream. They would either usher in a peace that would last a thousand years or bring in on aiding our world's destruction. We need to be there to guide them along the way Tyra. We all do. However I have something that I had to ask you Tyra. And I want you to promise me to do it without hesitation,"

"Anything Alleia," answered Tyrande without hesitation. Alleia always had asked promises from her before and it was always nothing too great that Tyrande can't answer.

The High Priestess merely took a deep breathe before speaking out. "When the time comes that I had a child. I want you to promise me Tyrande that you would be the mother that he or she would need if I ever perish,"

Tyrande only blinked as she looked at the serious face of her best friend who had grabbed her forearm tightly as she asked her boon. Surely she could't mean to say that she would die. The thought of Alleia dead made Tyrande sick to the stomach.

"Alleia you can't be serious-,"

"Promise me Tyrande!" insisted Alleia shaking her forearm, the grip painful now.

"I promise Alleia, I promise," answered the Priestess finally as Alleia's face morphed into one of relief as she released Tyrande's forearm to look back into the sky.

Tyrande made a mental note to go find Harrold and talk to him about this as soon as possible, even if she had to swim to get to Vroengard. If Alleia is expecting to die, she'll damn make sure that it didn't happen and who better to help her than Mr. Honor who had been the cause of all this.

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 **Alright I'm sorry if I didn't devote time writing how they built the city, and I hope you like the name of it. I intend to focus soon on the Second war and the building of more cities outside Vroengard and extend the influence of Terrans and Night Elves on Azeroth. And yes, I'll be including a floating city one. Though it concerns me how they are going to do it. Im going to change many of the fates in Azeroth too like Arthas, the Windrunner sisters, Sally Whitemane and Lothar, Im going to include the dragons soon including Deathwing. That's it for now.**

 **Hihi you noticed I didn't write about Illidan here. That's for later.**

 **Come on its not that surprising that I included Dragons. And hey, I love the Inehritance cycle books hhihihi tra-la.**

 **Please . and Fav. Is it a bad thing that the reviews almost overtook the fav and follows?**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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There are very few things that can cause the Templar Grandmaster a major headache. Unfortunately one of those things that fall on the short list of "how to piss Harrold off" is occuring right now and the Templar Grandmaster can't help but be livid about it.

"You mean to tell me that we have the leader of the Teutonic Knights Order and our Head Scout missing for five months already and you didn't find it appropriate to tell me?!"

Harrold is furious. It had been a regular day with him walking around Minas Ithil with his men-at-arms talking to the people and greeting them, watching the city grow to prosperity as everyone slowly acclimated at the fact that this place was their home now. He had been surprised when a team of dirty Templars who looked like they have taken a dip at the sea rode in on the gate. He was pretty sure that he didn't order any of the Knights to go out on any missions today. He would have passed it off as them exploring the island if not for the fact that they were all armed to the teeth and that sent alarm bells on the Grandmaster's head.

A few questions is all it took on his part before they finally spill the beans about the lost knights and scouts: where they have been from and who ordered them to go, which led him here at the suite of the blonde ponce secretary. The Grandmaster nearly toppled the door down in his rage as he entered the room.

To his credit, Draco retained his cool despite the face of Harrold's wrath, maintaining his stoic expression in front of the Grandmaster. "I believe that it is not relevant enough to tell you my lord. Trust me Grandmaster, I did not deign to tell you since I believe that me and the other captains can deal with it enough on our own,"

BAM!

Every knight on the room flinched hard when Harrold's fist impacted on the table, hard. "Not relevant?! We lost sixteen soldiers! Sixteen! Two of those were capable of wielding the same magic as we do Malfoy! You do understand that we must be able to scrape every magic user we have if we plan to survive this world? Now you tell me that you didn't have the guts to tell me about it because you don't deign it unimportant?!" snarled the Grandmaster.

"I did it on the best of intentions Grandmaster," the blonde knight-secretary replied not flinching at the anger of Minas Ithil's lord. "You are lost that time and we have no idea where you were or what happened to you. They were the best choice that time to track you down. Fleur's talent on tracking is unparalleled to no one and Diggory and his men-at-arms are the only one that can resist her charms. It seems an easy decision to make, and a rapidly obvious one. You are the only one who is aware of anything on this new world out of all of those who had been resurrected. We cannot lose you, not if we want any chance to live on this world. I hope you understand that,"

Harrold gritted his teeth wanting nothing more than to deny the truth of Draco's words. He is right no matter how much the Grandmaster sugar coat it. He may not be the leader of the other Orders but he became the de facto king by some reason that he cannot yet fathom. Probably because of his achievements and being the one chosen to be informed about this second-chance thingy by the deities. Not that he doubted it since two hours before arriving and he already made contact with their only ally, who trusted his people because they trust him. He knew that if he ever died, relationships between Kaldorei and Terran would escalate quickly. Many of his people though accepting of the Night Elves, are still wary of them. Not that he blamed them. The idiotic priests have been filling their heads with nonsense about demons before they were given a chance at rebirth anyway. It will take time for them to get used to it; and it is time that Harrold had to be there to lead them and quell any conflicts that might accidentally or not happen,"

"Fine!" snapped the Grandmaster at his subordinate who merely nodded. "I agree that your actions on sending them after I an kidnap..err..negotiated at the continent. However I cannot see the reason why you didn't deign to inform me about the fact that they're missing?"

"Because you are busy my lord," answered Draco. "Being the one coordinating and organizing all of this on providing us a place to live here, I decided to take matters into my own hands. You are busy enough as it is, not to mention the fact that you also had to be the one to keep the Kaldorei at the Grey Havens company in a great deal amount of time to convince them of our intentions. I believe your hands are full as it is,"

"And what did the men that you sent find?" Harrold finally asked finally letting the argument drop. What's done is done and Draco meant no harm. Sure he was a good friend, but if the former blonde ponce of Hogwarts had done it to save his skin from being scolded by him, he would have hanged him without hesitation.

"Nothing,"

"What do you mean nothing?" Harrold can't help but glare at his friend.

"Exactly as I say it Grandmaster," spoke Draco cooly. "The men I've sent have tracked them as far as the Eastern shores where we guessed they built a makeshift boat when they found out that you had been taken away from the island. There are enough evidence there that shows that they cut down some trees to build the vessel they used,"

"And?" he gestured for Draco to go on.

"We have sent some ships from the Grey Havens to at least check the waters not far from the Eastern shores. They managed to find the trail of the makeshift ship as best as they could thanks to one of the Sentinels that went with them who volunteered to help. It did not take long before we manage to find the wreckage of the boat they sailed in at the main continent at the southern borders of Ashenvale,"

"So we have good men and women out there who had been lost at sea," the Templar Grandmaster said mournfully. He'll miss both of them. He had good relations with the former Veela and he respected Cedric, even on this life. The two of them are masters on their own fields and it is a complete tragedy that they lost their lives on simply the second day of their rebirth.

"They're not dead Grandmaster," corrected Draco curtly stopping Harrold momentarily at his current train of thought.

"What do you mean Draco? You just said that you found the wreckage of their ship. You as well as I have seen what wrecked ships look like at the coasts that led to Jerusalem. There are almost no survivors always Draco,"

"Almost," pointed out the Templar. "Let me finish Harrold," he said soothingly this time, the Grandmaster did not miss that he loosed the formalities.

"I know that you're worried about them. Trust me, I am too. I am the one after all who are responsible for their current predicament though I am not as close to them as you are," he then smiled wryly. "My first life after all did not make the best of impressions to them,"

"I agree," Harrold spoke out chuckling remembering a conversation she had with Fleur who had shared with him that Draco in his first life had even asked for access to her bedroom during the days of the Triwizard Tournament since he is a "rich-sexually-practiced pureblood which earned him with a slap from the Veela. When Harrold asked Draco about this, the former blood ponce had run off as if the hounds of hell had been unleashed at him.

"Good times I might say," Draco said thoughtfully. "Now where was I? Yes, we believe that they may still be alive Harrold. The men and the Kaldorei Sentinel with them have found large number of footprints leaving the site towards the dark of the forests heading south,"

"They might just be looters or bandits," suggested Harrold. It is common from where they are before for misdeameaning thieves and cutthroats to raid shipwrecked sites looking for anything of value to sell or use.

Draco only smirked at him. "Oh come on Harrold. Don't tell me that you've already forgotten our allies. Do tell me, do you imagine the Kaldorei letting any of the thieves and looters that are so common from Earth to roam their beloved forests in peace?"

Harrold only grimaced at his second-in-command's words. He had completely forgotten the fact that the Kaldorei controlled Moonglade, Ashenvale an now Felwood (self-cheer, ahem,ahem). "Point taken. I assume the men you sent did not proceed any further?"

"They didn't. The Sentinel with them had been the only one to continue tracking our people then. Apparently there is a large prison there of the Night Elves, where they keep the worst of their worst. According to our guide, the Kaldorei simply called it the Vault. It is a place where outsiders like us are strictly forbidden to enter. Heck according to the Sentinel, even Kaldorei like them were prohibited entry by the Watchers, the ones in charge of the Vault into entering. Its said that ancient magic and traps still dwelt inside the Vault and its much more to the trespassers safety not to enter than to risk inside without knowing the place,"

"Let me guess, Cedric and Fleur with their men entered it?" asked Harrold knowing how curious Fleur is, especially when there's a door that is locked placed inside of her. The Veela loved opening things that deemed themselves hard to unlock. That is why she took the profession of curse-breaker in her previous life like her first husband.

"They did," this time Draco's face morphed into an ugly scowl. "And they also battered and stunned every Watcher that dared to stop them. For some reason they also apparently freed the main prisoner inside the Vault and escaped with him. The Chief Warden, Maiev Shadowsong had gathered most of her Watchers and chased after them,"

"No surprises there," shrugged Harrold. "They didn't know that we manage to establish an alliance with the Kaldorei and would have fought to defend themselves if the wardens of the jail attacked them. You said that there are no casualties though?"

"None. They must have adhered to my command about not killing the locals," replied Draco who had a smirk at his face, proud that the lost knights chose to obey his command to the fullest.

"Good, good," Harrold sighed in relief as he slumped on one of the comfortable armchairs inside Draco's suite. "I would need to address this though with the Night Elven leadership. Despite not killing anyone, they still freed one of our allies' top prisoners though. I need to go to Moonglade again and deal with this personally,"

The blonde knight merely snorted from where he sat. "You mean you just want an excuse to visit a certain Priestess will you? Or two in your case?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," denied Harrold feeling his cheeks warm up as he remembered the passionate night at the Festival and the glorious body of the Night Elf High Priestess.

"Oh please, Harrold. Lying is never strongest suit. I could see that you missed having her around. Don't act like you don't. We all saw the Patronus flying from your tower heading to the mainland. You truly don't think that a flying silver stag in the sky would not attract attention did you? It led a dragon and two hippogrif's in a merry chase before spooking half the residents of the Grey Havens as it flew overhead. I nearly got buried with all the letters demanding what it is from the Kaldorei there the next day when I entered my office,"

The Templar Grandmaster only blinked. "I see," Truly he didn't actually expect anyone would see it. Now that Draco mentioned it though. He can't believe how blind he had been. A stag without wings shining in the middle of a sunrise on its own light does attract attention.

"So you plan to go?" Draco finally asked pulling their conversation away about flying stags.

"Yes," nodded Harrold. "And I would not be going alone. I'll be going with three ships. The regular design of Acre for now. I don't know what would happen and if I could, I would be able to track down Fleur and Cedric from the coast. Traveling by ship is much easier after all than walking,"

"Unless you chose to fly," pointed out Draco. "We have at least a dozen brooms that Daphne managed to enchant. You could use those,"

"And get picked out by a random predator in the sky?" Harry rose an eyebrow in question. "No, not today. We do this the Templar way. We have very low idea about this world. Every step outside our island must be treated with caution until then,"

"Fine sure," waved the blonde knight off. "So three ships. That's at least six hundred soldiers, not counting the sailors. Are you sure that it'll be the designs of Acre ships that you choose? Those things can make even the best sailor puke out and are very unwieldy. You could wait for the next two weeks where the first joint Terran and Kaldorei design would be released. Rumors among the shipwrights are already saying that the designs are a marvel to behold,"

"Trust me Draco. There's nothing more I hate than riding an Acre designed ship. However it's not the time to be picky right now. We need to head this off before the rumor mill started changing it to something that is so far from the truth that it will backfire on us. The alliance we had with the Kaldorei will crumble if I don't address this personally. We would lose all the trust that earned during the Battle of Felwood and the deaths paid there will be all in vain,"

"Agreed," nodded the blonde knight.

Looking at his old friend and enemy, Harrold can't help let a smirk as a random thought popped on his mind.

"You know Draco, you should come with me to Moonglade. Find yourself a mate or a wife there from all the available beauties and bring it back here. Maybe a Priestess that can help you relax. Angels only know how uptight you are these days. It would do good if you had a woman to...release your frustrations on,"

The Templar merely stared at him balefully. "I don't even want to imagine what you meant by that last phrase Harrold. But you as well as I know that no one could manage the affairs here if I leave as well as you do,"

"Alright, alright I give up," chuckled Harrold as he stood up and began walking outside the door. "But still, you really should relax every now and then Draco. You'll look like your old daddy Lucius if you keep up all this stressful work,"

"And you need to lighten up and stop worrying too much else you'll become a male version of Lily Potter! Potter!" called out Draco making the Grandmaster laugh one more time and close the door behind him.

Walking down the familiar marble staircases of Minas Ithil, Harrold can't help but be giddy with excitement. He had been cooped up here for months dealing with the people (which is fun) and the paperwork (which he wished he could just burn). It would be relatively easy to gather the men needed for his company. With ten of his Order, a simple ride to Callahorn would be all that's needed to gather soldiers already there and ride directly to the Grey Havens and set sail. Fifteen ships of Acre design have always been held by standby by the Terran shipwrights there always for emergencies such as this today.

Looking forward, Harrold can't help but admit that Draco was right a bit. As much as troubling it was on killing off the rumours. He could wait for an official missive either from the council or Alleia herself to come before acting. His main reasons are more personal. He wanted to see Alleia again.

The knight mentally groaned as he climbed the familiar staircase of the Grandmaster's tower. Since when did he anyway put personal interests first before duty? He haven't even attended his father's funeral back at home since their is battle at the walls of Jerusalem. Sure, Harrold is not obligated to fight since he is the Grandmaster, but instead he chose to fight than to head home and say his final farewells to his deceased second father. He chose duty over family that time. That's the reason why he can't help but wonder why is he having trouble choosing duty over his confused feelings for the High Priestess.

He like her, he truly do. Something about her really made him want to pine after her like a wolf on scent. Alleia is kind, wise, rash maybe, very beautiful, that is essentially very obvious and most importantly, brave. During his first life where equality between men and women was recognized, he had seen his fair amount of the opposite sex being complete cowards and doesn't have the spine to take responsibility of failed decisions. Alleia is the opposite of that.

However if he is truly asked what he really like about her, he might answer her smile. He still haven't forgotten the morning after laying with one another where he could feel her in his arms, as bare as the day she was born. Her face looked so innocent and beautiful when asleep and it was also the first time that Harrold considered settling down.

Shaking the thoughts about the High Priestess away, Harrold strode on. He will see her sooner or later and the faster that he managed to get there, the faster his confused feelings will subside.

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"Tyra, please tell me this isn't true," Alleia muttered mournfully holding the open letter that had arrived this morning from Ashenvale from a runner who looked like she haven't stopped until the letter reached Alleia's hands.

Right now she is sitting at her solar, the letter dropped on the standing table she used when writing fluttering uselessly on the morning wind. Tyrande is at her side immediately picking up the letter, curious to what made her best friend well, react the way she does right now.

Her eyes widened though at the words that are scribbled as if in great haste on it.

 _"The Vault attacked...Humans with armor I've never seen...Illidan freed..heading off South to pursue,"_

 _-Maiev Shadowsong_

Beneath the words is the Warden's seal of the Vault proving its authentication that indeed the Warden is the one that sent it. Its amazing how much thirteen words can cause such a severe distress for the pregnant Night Elf. Tyrande made a mental note to shoot Maiev next time on the leg for being so blunt.

"Is this true Alleia?" asked Tyrande sitting beside her friend.

"As far as I can tell. The runner who delivered it is half dead from exhaustion and I can sense spellwork on her that had the same aura as the one that came yesterday,"

This time, Tyrande can't help the blush that rose on her cheeks the same time as Alleia, as they recalled the silver stag that popped up out of nowhere and began speaking in the Templar Grandmaster's voice serenading the two with compliments of how much he missed them and the grandness of their beauty. They would have been flattered if not for the fact that the silver stag apparition busted on them during one of the council sessions, cementing the rumors that they have become mates of the Templar Grandmaster. The silver stag that sent the message is currently playing on the woods of moonglades with the wisps who prevented it from dissparating when it finished delivering its message.

"So I guess our new friends are behind this," pointed out Tyrande.

"If the runner's reports were accurate then yes. I don't understand Tyra. Did I make the right decision? I've welcomed them with open arms. I've even slept with their leader. Why did they betray us Tyra?" asked Alleia mournfully and Tyrande could see the starting of tears on her best friend's eyes.

"I don't believe this is Harrold's fault," Tyrande finally spoke softly.

"What?"

"I said, I don't believe this is his and his people's fault. If I had not met him myself, then I might make assumptions that you did. But come on Alleia. Look at me in the eye and tell me if Harrold and his companions are able or at least capable to stab us on the back,"

Silver blue eyes only blinked confusedly before going down to stare at the letter. "I don't think so. They care too much for their ideals or honor,"

"Indeed," nodded Tyrande remembering the fight she had with the Grandmaster. Now that she had time to think about it, she could recall the Grandmaster pulling his punches on her, and even not taking advantage of molesting her during the fight which can unsettle even the most veteran Kaldorei and create an distraction which is lethal and dangerous on a duel.

"So they did not do it?" sniffed Alleia.

"Or at least they're not responsible," pointed out the Priestess as she checked the date of the letter. "This had been written only after the Battle of Felwood, before the creation of the Alliance. If my hunch is right, this is a splinter group, one who probably came from the island and lost themselves on the woods to Ahshenvale,"

"But why attack the Vault and free Illidan? How did they open the Vault in the first place? Its mechanisms are strong enough that it would need a dozen Felguard to even be forced to move from the outside,"

"I don't know," answered Tyrande thoughtfully having the same questions on her head currently. "But I've got a feeling that maybe the Betrayer had lied to them again on helping him escape. Illidan has always been a master manipulator. I won't be surprised if he had turned his blades on the ones that rescued him already. I just hoped Maiev will get to their corpses before the carrion fully devoured them,"

"So how do we deal with this?" asked Alleia.

Tyrande only raised an eyebrow at the High Priestess. This is a serious breach of protocol. She can't believe she's asking her. She's the High Priestess and decisions like these require her knowledge and wisdom to solve, not Tyrande's. Still, her best friend had it rough these past few months despite her helping. She could let it slide for now.

"We need to reassure our people that this is not a deliberate attempt of our allies to subjugate us. Already I am sure that the news had spread that the Vault had been attacked by same people who fought side by side with us. We need to get the Grandmaster here present to reassure everyone that we are not being betrayed. We also need to reinforce the Vault and check what happened there. I advise to send a token force with some of the Knights from Vroengard in a joint mission to track down Illidan if they can and bring back those that freed him either to the justice at the end of an arrow or at the middle of the council chambers to explain themselves,"

Alleia is silent for a while before finally sighing, letting off a graceful smile at her direction. "Good thinking Tyra. Now go and prepare the messages to Vroengard. It would take a day from here to the harbor of Felwood and another six hours by boat to reach the island. We just need to calm our people from fully panicking and gearing up for war until then. As for now, send runners to Shandris at Ashenvale and Jaria at Felwood. Tell them to keep the people from panicking and spread publicly your views Tyra. We need to convince them not to club the Terran merchants and vendors on our lands. Also add a message to Shandris to check on the Vault and if necessary, lock it down to prevent anyone from entering again. If I know Maiev, she would have left wardens behind and they would appreciate the extra help. Also gather members to participate on this token force you are planning to send Tyra,"

"At once High Priestess," bowed Tyrande listing off Alleia's large amount of orders when a large gust of wind followed by the loud squawking of a hippogryph outside the Temple making any thought of obeying the long list that Alleia provided her with flying off the window.

Wondering what in the world is a windrider doing here. Tyrande wasted no more time waiting as she bolted for the door of the high Priestess' solar followed immediately in a second by Alleia as they went out to see what the commotion is.

The magical beast with the hindquarters of a mighty black stag and the head, wings, and forelegs of a large raven met them outside of the temple with the rest of the Priestesses of Elune; antlers rising from its black-feathered head, the hippogryph squawked once more as its rider disembarked. Tyrande noticed that the signa of the rider belonged to that of the area of Darkshore.

"High Priestess, Priestesses," the sentinel bowed. "I am Sentinel An'Tara. I bring word from harbor master of Darkshore, Mallea. Six ships from Vroengard were sighted approaching the docks. They would be their on three hours,"

"Why the bother Sentinel?" asked one of the Priestesses who gathered with them. "Ships come from the Isle of Vroengard every now and then,"

"We also thought of that my lady," replied the Sentinel. "However Priestess Mallea is concerned about these ships. They are bigger than any of the ships that had ever visited. They are also filled with soldiers instead of the usual tradesmen that come,"

Immediately talk began spreading around the assembled conclave as every Priestess and Sentinel who heard the news try to make themselves heard above everyone else.

"It's an invasion!"

"They betrayed us!"

"First the Vault and now Darkshore! What are we gonna do?!"

"Send runners! Assemble the army!"

"ENOUGH!" Alleia's voice silenced everyone like always, her face stern that showed proof that even though the High Priestess had kindness and meekness a mile long, there is fire in her that led her to her position right now as leader of the Kaldorei.

Once satisfied that she had their full attention and not anyone would cut her off, she immediately spoke in a loud voice.

"I myself with Tyrande will go and see what this is all about. Remember, the Terrans are allies now. How can we call ourselves an Alliance if we don't try to reach out and understand things first before rushing off to war? Stay here. Keep the peace while we figure things out. Whatever you do, don't let the people panic and start a mob. What happened at the Vault was not the Terran's fault as far as I can piece so far. I will speak with the Grandmaster again and if possible, bring the ones who had broken in our prisons to justice,"

"But High Priestess, they're invading-," protested one of the Priestess but Alleia's glare cut her off making her let off an undignified squawk as she immediately went silent.

"I have made my decision about this. Now go, spread the word of what I've said. Keep the peace and trust in our Alliance to hold. Even if the worst comes and they attack us. We would not be known as a race of oathbreakers and liars!" commanded Alleia to the gathered group who immediately cheered as they ran off to follow her commands.

Tyrande only looked incredulously at Alleia who beamed at her when she noticed.

"You've got an uncanny gift to inspire people in that level Alleia," commented the Priestess as Alleia stepped towards the windrider who nodded before making space for them at the back of the hippogryph.

The magical creature was big enough for all of them to fit in and Alleia easily climbed unto its back before extending a hand towards her.

"What can I say Tyra? I'm awesome and I know it," she chimed making Tyrande roll her eyes at her best friend at how fast her moods change, accepting the offered hand and sitting behind her. A yell from the driver of the Hypogryph made the large animal squawk as it beat its wings frantically for a few seconds to lift off from the ground with the extra baggage on its back before slowly ascending towards the air and started heading at the direction of Darkshore.

Despite the assurances she made within herself that the Terrans won't invade them, Tyrande can't help but let her anticipation be known to her best friend.

"You really think that this is not an invasion Alleia?" asked Tyrande loudly to make herself heard with the gusting of the winds around them at every flap of the hyprogryph.

"No, I don't think so!" snapped Alleia in the same tone as she does.

"What if you're wrong?!"

Alleia only looked at her plainly in the eyes without any sort of emotion.

"Then we die or suffer like the rest of the people we condemn for not taking any action,"

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 **Hello. That's it another chapter done. Hope ya like it, please review and fav.**

 **After a lot of arguments and PM's. I decided to include the dragons later for the story. For now Ill focus on kalimdor and building cities or alliances. Later we'll participate on the Second war and change many lives and fates.**

 **Please bear with me as the story moves progressively slow. You had to understand that this is all pillars for the events later. It would be a bit boring without the wars and battles yet. Thanks.**

 **Readers please message me what's wrong that I can't see any of the new reviews?**

 **Vote if you want Harrold to have one-night stands with females later.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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"Those are the biggest and ugliest ships I had the displeasure to see," muttered Tyrande to Alleia who merely nodded as the floating excuse that is called a ship nearly crashed to their harbor sending half the dock workers running back to dry land on safety.

Alleia beside her only nodded in affirmation as the thing that resembled more of a floating log than a ship cast off its ropes to the Kaldorei on the harbor as it docked. For people who had great armor and put painstaking effort on their designs, Tyrande for the life of her can't understand why their ship looked so well...plain and bulky. Though Tyrande had to admit, the wide white sails bearing the emblem of the Templars and the Free Knights put on the sails is an intimidation tactic. No wonder that the Harbor Master panicked at the sight of the approaching ships. They're massive and had great hulls of iron that the Priestess is sure that it is not simply there for design.

She and Tyrande with the aid of the windrider barely made it twenty minutes before the largest of the ships dock on the harbor while the remaining ones stay anchored a little well off since the harbors of Darkshore aren't designed to accomodate such large and bulky vessels. Together with them is Rhaenys, the Sentinel Commander of Darkshore and thirty of her guards to help evacuate Alleia in case their assumptions that their allies came in peace is misguided. Though Tyrande seriously doubted that.

However her interest about ships and betrayals immediately flew out of the window as a familiar figure with jet black messy hair and green eyes with a small ponytail at his back jumped off the side of the ship in his white and cross-designed armor, landing a little less nimbly than a regular Kaldorein on his feet at the waters of the shore. Rising up, Tyrande can't help but feel her cheeks heat up a bit as the handsome face of the Grandmaster beamed as his sight landed on her and Alleia.

Judging from the faint squeak beside her. Tyrande would bet her shoe that her best friend reacted the same way as she did.

Crossing the distance easily between them, the Templar Grandmaster and ruler of Vroengard bowed respectfully at them as protocol dictated. "High Priestess Alleia, Priestess Tyrande," he greeted. "Thank you for allowing my ship docking to your shores,"

For a moment Tyrande wondered if her best friend had been overcome with nervousness. She did not try to show it, but Tyrande could see that Alleia had missed Harrold a great deal on these past few months. No surprises there, the High Priestess is usually an isolated person thanks to her position and difference with the other Elves; with her connection to Elune. Tyrande had never seen Alleia relaxed completely with someone other than her, and now Harrold. It did not take a genius to see that the High Priestess have feelings for the Templar Grandmaster.

However no matter how much the two liked each other, formality must always be observed at times like these; especially with a public crowd on the background. Showing off after all has always been a tradition to all species when presenting their race or even village on a best foot forward anyways.

Tyrande was just deciding whether to cough to remind her best friend of her duties as High Priestess when Alleia beat her to it.

"You're welcome Grandmaster. Welcome to Darkshore. I hope that you find our docks satisfactory for your err..ship," finished the High Priestess looking skeptically at the floating pathetic excuse of a ship. It seems that not only Tyrande have strong negative opinions pertaining the Templars' choice of transportation.

Acting as if he did not heard the wordings about his boat Harrold merely bowed. "Forgive me for not sending any of you any messages about my apparent arrival. But I didn't waste any time coming here once I got word that some of my men had caused an offence to your people which can cause your trust in mine to break no matter how unintentional it is,"

Tyrande watched silently as Alleia's face becomes guarded as the Night Elves who had gathered to listen to the conversation began to whisper immediately to one another at the Templar Grandmaster's words.

"I believe that we should bring our discussion indoors Grandmaster without anyone eavesdropping on us. The services of the dock and the town are welcome for your men in your ship. As for you, please follow me Grandmaster,"

Finished with her speech, Alleia turned and strutted away like the persona that a High Priestess of Elune showed on public as the crowd parted for her and the Sentinel bodyguards she had with her. Tyrande only looked at Harrold who gave her a shrug before turning to his young squire, whom Tyrande recognized the same on in the forest.

"I'll be fine Mr. Creevey. Go around and enjoy yourself until then. Be respectful to the Elves here alright? They're a bit different from the ones on the Grey Havens,"

"Are you sure my lord?" asked Colin giving her and the other elves a distrustful look. "You'll be alone against these sava-,"

"I advise that you do not finish that word Colin," cut off Harrold. "We are here as diplomats. Remember to watch your opinions always when you are at foreign soil my young squire. Now go! I'll be fine. Stop worrying about me so much,"

"Yes my lord," bowed the young Terran with a chastised look on his face before walking off to the streets. Harrold merely watched him go before following at Alleia's wake.

Striding after him at the back, Tyrande gestured for Rhaenys, the Sentinel Commander of Dark Shore to walk with her. In a second, the armored Kaldorei is immediately at her side.

"Is there something you need Priestess?"

"Yes," nodded Tyrande. "I had a favor to ask Rhaenys. Would you mind checking the village to see if my student, Arko'Narin is currently on town. If she is, tell her that I am commanding her to accompany that boy who had been standing beside the Grandmaster and show him around,"

"But what if she's not here Priestess?" asked the Sentinel Commander.

Tyrande just smiled at her with mischievous eyes. "Then I suggest that you be the one to accompany him Rhaenys," the Priestess of Elune immediately strode forward faster after the Grandmaster ignoring the squawk of protest from the indignant Sentinel Commander who has been left behind.

Tyrande isn't surprised when Alleia led them simply to one of the larger houses in Darkshore instead of the halls of the residing Priestess which is a lot farther. Alleia has never been one for pomp and ceremony and would rather want to get to see things done instead of doing it in a place where she held the illusion of the position of power, a practice that the former High Priestess before her loved indulging with which belittled whoever she was speaking to at the moment.

.After politely asking the family owning it to allow them use of the Living Room for the discussion. Alleia gestured for Harrold and her to go outside while the Sentinels that Rhaenys provided stood at the entrance of the house to prevent anyone from eavesdropping on the discussion.

The Priestess of Elune though is caught by surprise when the moment that the door closed; he immediately fired a light on it which caused it to glow blue. Tyrande panicked for a second thinking that this is some trap to assassinate the High Priestess and is a second from the pulling the hidden knife she strapped to her left thigh inside her dress for emergency cases like this one when Harrold turned on them and before she could react. Draw both her and a startled High Priestess to a powerful hug.

"I've missed you both!" laughed the Templar quite loudly pressing them towards him and nearly lifting her and her best friend a foot from the ground as he swayed them both like rag dolls , not an ounce of formality he displayed outside showing anymore.

"Harrold! Harrold! Put us down!" squeaked Alleia to her right in a panic. Tyrande didn't know if it is because of unsettlement or nervousness that any second now, the door would be trampled down by angry Night Elven Sentinels to check on their two leaders.. "The guards outside will hear you,"

"Dont' worry about them Allie," chuckled Harrold as he daintily put them down, letting go of his arms at their waists that lifted them like rag dolls. "That light on the door is a silencing spell. They won't hear anything that we are speaking inside here unless I allow it too or lift the spell,"

"I-I see," smiled the High Priestess and much to Tyrande's shock, her ever stoic and emotional best friend who didn't smile much these past few months tackled the taller Templar, pressing her cheek against his chest since she is a head shorter than him despite the advantages of Kaldorei in height compared to humans.

"I missed you Harrold," mumbled the Night Elf, her silver hair morphing back to her violet ones as her hands pressed to him.

The Templar Grandmaster's arms slowly encircled her in return reluctantly as if not believing that the Kaldorei in front of him is real. "And I missed you too my beautiful High Priestess,"

Tyrande wanted nothing more than to coo and sigh watching her best friend turn happy again. It's high time Alleia, had a mate and no one else deserved it more than her. Harrold is a good choice for her, and for that Tyrande is glad. She wondered how she would approach Alleia about the subject of her sharing her mate with her. She knew in her heart Alleia would agree, but a part of her felt bad that she is taking what little of the good that her best friend had on her life. Still, Tyrande can't deny her feelings.

Her heart had practically leaped to her throat when Harrold embraced her. The feel of his chiseled chest in fact rubbing on her own well-endowed ones is still clinging to her mind. While Alleia liked Harrold for his kindness and honor, not to mention masculinity. Tyrande liked him for his character on idealism. That person is a good leader, she could see it with the way his men looked at him. Leading soldiers, and ordering them to fight to their deaths is a taboo for many generals and leave them a bad light for the soldiers at their command. Harrold didn't have that problem which spoke spades of his character already to her. She just wondered if the feelings she had for him are not simply admiration, but feelings of attraction indeed. Alleia would be devastated if she allowed her to be courted by Harrold and Tyrande dump him since her feelings are all wrong. Not that she didn't appreciate him as a male, for she certainly does.

Once done with the cuddling and embracing that he is doing with her best friend. He turned and smiled at her where she remained standing all this time. "Priestess Tyrande, its good to see you again. You look good I might say," he commented, his eyes going up and down her form which is covered by the regular Priestess robes of the Temple of Elune.

Tyrande flattered by his comment unlike Alleia who would have blushed to her hair instead merely let off same challenging smirk that she gave off when they first met.

"And I might say that ruling agreed with you Harrold. You have better and cleaner armor than the last time I have seen you,"

"Well I did not roll over a forest of mud and leaves before presenting myself to you this time Tyrande," chuckled the Grandmaster. "Besides; if you call my grey hair,the results of ruling and building Vroengard an improvement. I might say I'll take that as a compliment Tyrande,"

"I believe it is worth it?" asked Tyrande.

"It is," nodded the Templar Grandmaster, pride showing on his face. "Vroengard Island is now a paradise. You should come and see it. It's barely recognizable very different from the place of monsters before, eh Tyrande?"

"I'll see it to believe it," said the Priestess simply before looking at Alleia who had her hand enclosed to that of Harrold, mischievously. The High Priestess seeing her glare immediately gave her a warning look that clearly says: "Don't you dare!" Tyrande's smirk only grew wider.

"I might say Grandmaster,"spoke the Priestess snarkily keeping her eyes glued on Alleia who looked panicked. "Does the beauty of your island home compare to the beauty of our High Priestess here?"

"It certainly does," replied the Terran with conviction on his voice. "Though I had to admit, High Priestess Alleia looked much much more beautiful," his sound then turn to a thoughtful one. "I had to say though Allie, you've gotten a little fat from the last time I saw you,"

Tyrande promptly face planted to the ground at his statement.

 _"What a dense and stupid person,"_ her thoughts complained.

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Harrold didn't know why but as he sat there right now if front of the fuming High Priestess with an equally totally amused Tyrande at her side covering her mouth to stop herself from giggling, the Templar Grandmaster had no idea what he did wrong as he rubbed the red spot on his face with his hand gingerly where the palm of the pissed off High Priestess remained after she slapped him.

 _"I didn't even know what I did wrong. Women are really weird and fickle creatures,"_ thought Harrold as he continued rubbing his cheek which had taken the brunt of the High Priestess' ire. Still, he had to admit that Alleia looked totally cute when she is fuming. The way her cheeks bunch up themselves on her face made her look positively adorable.

Still, he can't believe his luck he is here right now though. The High Priestess which had been the object of his less than innocent dreams these past few months, (not that he tried and failed to suppress it) are right here in front of him right now. She is even more beautiful than Harrold remembered the last time he saw her. Her face still shone like alabaster with their exotic color, and her body is literally a body of a goddess, in his opinion despite it covered with the Priestess' robes she wore. For once, Harrold wished that he would see Alleia in a Sentinel attire. He just wondered if he could survive such a sight with her scantily clad. The fact remains however that the woman he seriously considered settling down with is right here in front of him and he even managed to pluck up the courage to hug her and allow himself a few touches of her hands when he entered acting not bothered at all though he was shaking into his boots. How they did not notice the clinking sound of his chainmail in his nervousness was a bloody miracle.

"I assume you know why I am here?" spoke Harrold once one of the servants knocked on the door asking for entry carrying a pitcher of wine with her and glasses for all three of them. Harrold did not miss the look of longing she gave him when she passed that sent shivers into his spine.

"I do," answered Alleia going back to her usual fashion of stoicism that marked her as the High Priestess of Elune and the leader of her people. In fact that is one of the reasons that Harrold liked about here. Alleia is a patriot through and through and knew how to set aside her personal feelings for the good of her people. "Though I'm not sure if my speculations are right or not,"

"I believe it is," answered Harrold simply. "I'm here because I heard the incident about the vault between the Wardens there and some of my knights and scouts a few months ago. My...subordinate and trusted friend had hidden the information from me and I only knew about it yesterday. I'm here to deal with the repercussions of the actions of my men there and explain them,"

He was quite surprised when Alleia stopped drinking, holding the glass in midair a she stared into him in wonder. Even Tyrande had a look of surprise that she covered up immediately into that of a stoic and bored mask, to resume a calm conversation. Alleia however had no such reservations on showing her reaction.

"How did you know about the Vault?" she demanded not quite kindly to him.

"The Vault? Seriously Alleia, you need a better name for your priso-,"

"Just answer the question Grandmaster!" cut off the High Priestess making Harrold sigh knowing that the woman he had lain with is deadly serious with this.

"One of the Sentinels that accompanied my men from the Grey Havens have aided on tracking my lost knights down to the shores of Ashenvale. She told the ones who had accompanied her about the prison and what it holds,"

"They didn't enter did they?" asked Alleia.

Harrold only shook his head in negative. "No, they didn't. Only the Sentinel went in and dragged the wounded Wardens there to the surface to be treated by my men,"

"Good, that would lessen the heat against you at least," sighed the High Priestess in relief. "Entering the Vault and killing one of the Wardens there is a crime justifiable enough on our culture to be executed,"

"I see," nodded Harrold thoughtfully before looking at her deeply. "I believe that the news of what happened at the Vault had spread already?"

"It did. In fact the message only came yesterday from a runner of the Vault. Right now, most people are still unaware of it, but I believe that what happened there and who had been set free would cause a massive uproar to the people by the end of this week unless I tell the council something about what happened there. Many are afraid and nervous that you and the other Terrans are planning to backstab us now that you had the other Night Elves on Vroengard hostage. Waging war on you would cause them to be executed by the dozens,"

"They're not hostages!" Harrold can't help but scoff. The very idea of killing unarmed and illegally beautiful women doesn't simply sat right with him. And the thought of using civilians as hostages and shields during a war is a complete anathema to him.

"I know they're not Harrold," said Alleia in a soothing voice. "I know your personality and that of your people didn't fell on that order. However my people are simply afraid Harrold and you as well as I know how fear can make even the best of men turn into idiots,"

Harrold merely remained silent for a moment. He had to admit, Alleia did raise strong points. If he still is at Terra, he would have been very skeptical if a large force that came out of nowhere looking like squids came into his dungeon and ran away with his worst prisoner after scaring half the guards on the process. Even if the said leader of the squids claim that they do not plan to harm then anytime soon.

The Grandmaster felt his shoulders sag as he stared with a smirk at the beautiful High Priestess. "You have any idea how dull you make me feel sometimes,"

"Well without me, life for you won't be interesting at all Grandmaster," chimed Alleia, the business like tone of hers going out of the proverbial window. This caused a snort from the Priestess who had remained silent all this time at her right. Raising an eyebrow in question at Tyrande who simply replied with her usual feral smirk of challenge. It amazed Harrold how fast his crush's moods turn from zero to hero in a split second.

"So what do we from here?" asked Harrold to the High Priestess who had reclined on her chair.

"You're asking me?" she blinked owlishly looking innocent...very innocent.

"Alleia," growled Harrold in warning at the playful act which earned him a cute giggle.

"Alright, alright Harrold. Let's start with how this all started and get all the facts in the table. We'll see then where we go from there alright?"

"Yes my lady," replied Harrold in habit as he usually does to Sybilla, the king's sister at Jerusalem which earned him two cute giggles from Tyrande looking at Alleia who went three different shades of color on her cheeks from light violet to red violet and then to deep red violet as she refused to meet Harrold's eyes.

Quite confused by her blush, Harrold merely acted a blind eye as he then began narrating everything that he and Malfoy managed to piece together with the information of the knights that his second-in-command had sent to gather with the Sentinel with them. It almost made Harrold stop telling them what happened when the two began giggling again when he explained how they built the makeshift boat to pursue him and Tyrande at the thought of him being abducted. However he did notice something strange with their eyes when he mentioned the Delacour heiress; describing her as "incredibly beautiful" and "had the bluest eyes I've ever seen" and "can turn heads every time she passed by". He made a mental note to drill that from them later when their business about this is finished. Still, sharing all the information; including that of Harrold's and Draco's speculations with them took at least two hours with all their questioning until the entire story is finally pulled out to the open leaving everyone in deep silence with their own thoughts as company.

Finally it was Alleia who broke the silence. "You're going south after them aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," nodded Harrold in affirmation. "Now more than ever. If this Warden, Maiev Shadowsong is as good as you say come to grips with Cedric and Fleur if they are still alive and not murdered by the Betrayer, they would fight to kill and that would lessen our opinion on your people even more,"

"They won't,"

"What?" Alleia and Harrold turned to Tyrande who had spoken out loud.

"They won't be betrayed," the High Priestess spoke forcefully. "I've known Illidan my entire life. He did only what he did out of desperation before. He felt that he would be useless without magic and he was right. However if there is one thing that I know about Illidan is the fact that he's loyal to his friends and he fully repay his debts in full,"

"Good," said Harrold in relief. He had worried a lot for his two friends and the men with them. "So I head south, find Illidan if I can and Maiev. Bring them back here safe and sound. While Alleia stays here and share the entire facts at Moonglade and stop any unrest that these events might cause. Did I just miss anything?"

"Yes you did," spoke Alleia. "You're not going to be able to order Maiev around like a common soldier. That Kaldorei is highly independent and would not be easily dissuaded from her hunt of the Shadow Hunter. You'll need a Priestess with you,"

"And who is the unlucky sod that I will be traveling with?" asked Harrold, not happy that they need to bring a Priestess with them. Their ships aren't luxurious after all at the moment.

"That would be me," spoke Tyrande making Harrold look at her. "And fifty Sentinels I'm bringing with me. Hope your men at the boat have space for beauties like us eh?" she snarked sarcastically as usual.

The Templar Grandmaster's protest died on his throat however when Alleia added her last coin.

"This is final Grandmaster. Don't argue anymore,"

Sighing in acceptance, Harrold ruffled his hair and spoke in a defeated voice. "Very well. Then let's get this show on the road from tomorrow morning. I hope we all do well, there are a lot of things to be done and I wish I can finish all this before all my hair turns grey in worry for everyone,"

"Turn hair in grey?" questioned Alleia curiously. Harrold despite himself can't help but let off a little frown in her direction.

"Yes, when I became stressed and age faster than usual. You don't know about this?"

Two heads shook in negative. Harrold only chuckled as he took his cup of wine and raise it to them. "Well that's another thing you know about us Terrans,"

As Harrold drank it, he didn't notice the distressed face that suddenly appeared on the High Priestess' face.

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Faint shufflings came from the bed beside hers confirming only Tyrande' suspicions about her best friend. Pretending to be asleep, the Priestess of the Moon didn't move a muscle as the person finished in what she assumed, dressing as she exited the house by the main door barely making a sound. If not for the fact of the thousands of experience that she had at her belt, Tyrande would have missed her completely.

Counting to one hundred, then Tyrande immediately left her own bed not bothering to wear anything other than her underclothes as she picked up her own bow and arrows, placing the ever familiar hunting knife at her thigh and run off as silent as the air she breathed after her best friend.

It did not take long for her to find Alleia's trail. The High Priestess might be a good negotiator and admirable leader, rolling over the problems of politics and morale like a moonsaber on the snow. But she is not exactly built to be that good on the build of stealth. That doesn't mean that she's a pathetic warrior. Oh no, very far from it in fact. Alleia is as good as she was ruthless. That after all had been the effect that the war against the Highborne left on the High Priestess.

As much as she had a hunch on knowing where her best friend is going to, Tyrande held fast to her trail avoiding the patrolling Sentinels on the night as she followed the trail outside of Darkshore for a few miles.

Night pressed deep on the jungles and already the sounds of predators moving on the forest are heard. Any living thing that is not a Night Elf would have pissed their pants in fear already, but not so Tyrande. In fact; she took pleasure on the blessings of Night like her entire race. Kaldorei never felt so alive until the moon comes and kicks the sun out of the sky.

Following the trail a few miles once more, Tyrande isn't surprised to see her friend crouched over the side of a lake, her cloak nearly making her invisible as she grunted again and again as her focus is directed at the massive root of Nordassil that dips on the water. Her hair is deep violet, her regular ones and Tyrande believed that it is that way because of her fear of being found out tonight. After all, only the High Priestess and a very few Kaldorei is blessed by Elune to have silver hair.

"Alleia," Tyrande softly called out once she's nearer and as she expected, her friend let off a small "eep" as she is startled and promptly fell on her butt, the knife on her hand covered in splinters on the blade and sap falling on the grass.

"Tyra!" exclaimed Alleia in no small amount of surprise and fear as she struggled to hide the knife and jar which Tyrande noticed is filled with green sap on her cloak. "What are you doing here on the dead of night?"

"I could say the same for you," pointed out the Priestess of Elune. She can't help but notice the dried tear tracks on Alleia's face, falling from her eyes and passing through the tattoos on it that indicated how much she cried. "What you are doing is going against everything that you have swore to do as the High Priestess, Alleia! You know as well as I do how our people would react once they know what you planned to do with the sap of Nordassil you had just taken! They would tear you to pieces at worst and hang you at best,"

"I know," snapped the High Priestess her voice cracking showing the struggle that is in her right now that Tyrande could detect clearly. "By Mother Elune, I know! But I had to do this Tyra! I-I love him! I can't let him die! I can't! I'm so sorry! Report me to the council after this if you will and I would leave. But please, don't stop me right now," begged Alleia.

Tyrande only blinked. Of course she knew who is the reason behind all this though he had no part on it. As Harrold explained to them the intricacies of human life, how it is limited to an average of eighty if they are lucky and past that, extremely lucky to the two of them. One look at Alleia's impassive face on her side made her aware how dismayed and afraid her best friend was. It had come to a shock to her too as much as the next Kaldorei, but for Alleia who had barely nothing on her life, it was too much. When Harrold inquired about the reason behind the question, her best friend walked out with the reasoning she need to answer the call of nature leaving Tyrande to explain their race's longevity to him. She didn't need to follow Alleia to know that her best friend bawled her eyes out.

Apparently Alleia mistook Tyrande's silence right now as something wrong for she immediately fell on her knees in front of Tyrande's feet, not bothering to hide her tears any longer.

"Please Tyra, I've given everything I had for our people and asked nothing for return. Grant me this one last boon for the sake of our friendship. Please Tyra, don't stop me and don't blame Harrold for what I do. He knows nothing of this. Please Tyra..please..," she then put her forehead at the soles of Tyrande's toes, nearly kissing the ground, begging.

Tyrande can't help but feel her heart break seeing her best firend degrade herself even more. She hated seeing her beg, seeing her sacrifice again everything for someone else. She can't help but don't prompted her to be so selfless? She had always given everything to everyone. She gave in to her parents' insistence to be a Priestess instead of a Sentinel. She gave in to her when Tyrande asked that she volunteer to be a candidate into being a High Priestess instead of her. She gave in when her people practically shoved the responsibility down her throat without question. Now she's giving in again because of a human. Only this time, it might cost her life.

 _"Is this love? Is this how it affects people?"_ thought Tyrande to herself looking down at her best friend in wonder. _"Many millennia we have been friends Alleia, but I can never understand you until now,"_

Of course Tyrande knew what she is about to do. Only one plausible way is possible that Alleia can do when she collected the sap. She is about to share the blessings of her race to the human who had unwittingly impregnated her and captured her heart. The only hiccup there is the fact that she will use the prohibited Arcane magic that the Kaldorei people disregarded for millennia. Something that not only can enrage the people at their priestess and remove her from power, but also practically sign her sentence to death.

Of course Tyrande could stop that. She could knock out Alleia here and report her. She is a priestess and could put the High Priestess under arrest. She will be mad, but she will live. On the other hand, accepting her wishes put her at risk. If even one knew, the secret is out and Alleia would be grease of blood on the forest floor.

Looking at her right now begging, Tyrande wanted nothing else but to bash her head to the nearest tree. Why oh why do these hard decisions fall on her? She had been forced once on this condorum whe she was made to choose between Illidan and Malfurion as possible suitors. She failed epicly on that regard. Illidan pined after her, but Malfurion despite being passionate at first, soon dried up. The damage was done and Illidan was imprisoned then and Furion slept leaving her broken. Now that she thought about it, it was Alleia who had supported her the entire way back to health. The decision is then final for her and made without question.

Tyrande slowly crouched towards her best friend letting her arms envelope the crying High Priestess pulling her closer to her as she rested her chin on the top of her head.

"It's alright Alleia. I-I'll keep your secret. Do what needs to be done. I'm along with you the entire way.

If it is possible, Alleia bawled even more as she practically cracked Tyrande's ribs with her own hug. Tyrande herself can't help but let off her own tears. She might not be very good at feelings, but she is sure that if love is true. Then this is what true love really means between two souls that are not only best friends, but also sisters in all but name.

None of them noticed the glowing green eyes that observed the entire scene the entire time, listening to their conversation.

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 **I know2x hope you liked the interaction between Tyra and Alleia. Please fav.**

 **Next chapter would be going south to the deserts. Only a clue then about what would happen next.**

 ***I really love Rohan and also Thorin Oakenshield hihihi**

 **Lustmaster! Get the f*** off! stop bothering me!**

 **Thank you for supportin my story. Ill be posting a new one soon, a one-shot that Cass, the old author sent me. hihihi**

 **See ya around readers.**

 **PS: Possible names for Dwarven Mountains.**

 **PPS: Calling the role call for bad Maiev or good one. Other than Illidan, whom do you want for the Knights to be paired with her? Draco and The Weasley twins are currently out of the question.**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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"Bleaaargghhh!"

"Tyra! Are you alright?" asked Harrold in a panic behind her. Her Terran friend and love interest hovered over her like an overprotective bat making if possible, Tyrande even more grumpier.

Currently there was a small frown knotting her forehead and her hands gripped the railing the thrice Elune cursed ship's rail so hard that her knuckles turned pale violet with the force she is applying on it.

It had been twelve hours since their voyage from Darkshore. Tyrande had been the one purposely assigned by Alleia after her promise that night to protect Harrold until they can get back alive so that Alleia can work her magic on him. She just prayed that her best friend won't be dead already the moment she returned. It was also a political move. Sixty Sentinels came with her as an escort together with the six hundred that Harrold had brought with him. It should have been double that number with the six ships that had came with him but rumors north of Moonglade of a group of water elementals harassing the locals gathered by Harrold's squire forced the Grandmaster into sending half his forces there to aid the locals. Tyrande just hoped that that action would endear the Terrans against any hostility pertaining the incident at the Vault and the Betrayer's freeing.

Right now though, the Priestess of Elune had troubles that is much, much worse than a group of raiding Elementals.

She had been informed by Harrold about the "dangers" of sailing ships. She merely scoffed at it. Tyrande is no stranger to sailing boats. She had always made the trip on one of the more graceful Elven ships from Moonglade either to the different islands west of the Elven lands or to the large continent of Darnassus where majority of the vines and food source of the Kaldorei people are grown.

She is however unprepared for the truth of the Templar Grandmaster's words about the real travel on the sea.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine!" snapped Tyrande in a tight voice. The Kaldorei knew he could sense that something is wrong with her. Harrold is one of the brighter heads on the bucket after all, something of a rarity on people nowadays.

"Tyra, are you sure? You really don't seem to be alright?" In fact the High Priestess' is looking rather pale compared to the usual color of her skin. "Don't tell me you're sick? We could always go back to Darkshore to get you-,"

"Yes!" Tyrande's angry voice snapped like a gun on the silence of the sea compared to the waves as her angry face turned towards the culprit who had been bothering her until now. "I am constantly being asked "Are you all right" by an idiot! I really wish-,"

Whatever it was she wished left to say was cut short abruptly as Tyrande's face set into determined lines without warning, clenching her teeth tighter. The fact that the interruption coincided with a larger than normal lurch from _Galahad_ was lost on the honorable Terran. Tyrande ignored him as he cast a worried look on the beautiful Priestess not minding his thoughts. The moment he met her, she had always been brave and brash. She was annoying but proud, able to take down anything on her way. She was all-knowing. She was one of the most capable women that he had come to know.

She was also seasick.

Tyrande shivered again. She understood it now. It was something that afflicted her although it never comes with the calm waters unlike these larger than life ones. It was the uncertainty, she now knew. It was simply mental. When the ship lurched or heaved or rolled, she was always caught unprepared, unable to believe that something so large and substantial could be tossed around so much.

Deep down of course she knew that the current conditions weren't too bad. But in the first long hours of this sea journey, Tyrande's mind can't register the fact that any moment might see a bigger wave, a more sudden lurch, a fatal roll that would go to far. She fervently hoped that once she became accustomed to the idea of the ship moving and recovering, moving and recovering, he would come to terms with her stomach and her nerves. But that would take she only prayed Elune-knows-when.

 _"In the meantime,"_ she thought grimly. Whatever her reason might tell her, she'd be well served if she stayed with her new best friend at the meantime, the railing. She only wished that Harrold would leave her alone at the meantime. An opposite with what she really want at the moment, for his attention is a thing she desperately craved and not get when Alleia is around. But she couldn't find a way to suggest without hurting the young Templar's feelings. And that was something that Tyrande, proud, gruff at moments, too-snarky and serious as she might appear to be would never wish doing.

The two demons with them Forge and Gred Weadley, Harrold's fellow Templars on this voyage, tall, noisy, and hearty appeared at the railing beside her, breathing the salty air deeply in unison with each other, inhaling and exhaling with great sighs of satisfaction. The two it seemed were not bothered by the sea for some reason and even enjoyed it. A trait that Tyrande thought bordered on lunacy.

"Mmmm! Smell that brother? There's nothing like te sea air to waken us up in an early morning is there?" Fred boomed appearing immediately at Tyrande's side just as she felt her stomach lurch again.

Tyrande only glanced suspiciously at the red-head knowing that he is up to no good again. The Templar simply didn't meet her gaze. Instead he peered out at the sparkling water.

"Right your are brother. Its obviously fascinating. Nothing like it in the entire world!" countered George at the Kaldorei's other side trapping Tyrande between them. Ignoring the murderous looks the Priestess is giving them. He took another deep breathe, studiously ignoring Tyrande's condition then finally said to his twin. "You know what I don't understand Freddie?"

"What don't you understand Georgie?" replied George with a level face as Tyrande went green as another wave hit the deck. He saw no need to answer knowing that his twin will answer it on his own and yank Tyrande's foot at the same time.

"I don't understand how Kaldorei can ride all day on one of those jerking, lurching, jumping, bucking fiends of hell without the slightest problem,"

This time, it earned a response as everyone tried to smother their laughs as they were reminded of the twins' challenge of riding one of the moonsabers that the Sentinels had brought on the Grey Havens. Never ones to resist a challenge, the two made a bet where they can date the sentinel whom the moonsaber they tried if they won and go naked but in their underwear if they lose on the town square. To say that they had been squashed flat by the said nightsaber would be then putting it on an understatement.

"But put them on a smooth, solid, barely moving ship's deck and suddenly their stomachs want to turn themselves inside our at the slightest gentle baby moves,"

In response, another wave hit the side of the ship making it lurch badly that forced barely concealed whimpers from the terrified Priestess who remained rigid as if her feet had been glued at the deck. Seeing no other time than now to tease the Kaldorei Priestess. Fred spoke up:

"Tyra? You're not seasick are you?"

"No!" the Priestess snapped with gritted teeth shortly, not trusting herself beyond one syllable.

"Probably need a bite of breakfast to settle your stomach," George added sagely, unhelpfully and without pity. "Get something solid inside you,"

"Had...Breakfast," This time, Tyrande managed three syllables but with some difficulty. George merely acted as if he didn't hear her speak.

"Cheese is good. Especially cheddar cheese. Sits on the gut nicely," he suggested smacking his lips appreciatively. "Goes well with a nice piece of greasy boar's meat. You do boar's meat here right? I mean... AAAHHH!"

He never finished as he suddenly found himself flying downward to the waters from Tyrande's sudden push as she lurched towards the ship's rail and hung over it. Dreadful noises were torn from her and George's splash was barely heard as the ship rattled in panic, many shouting "Man Overboard!" again and again. Fred, affecting a look of innocence turned to the remaining audience hands spread and eyes wide before making a mock horror face at the vomiting Priestess on the railing.

"What in the world is she looking for? Has she lost something do you think?"

Five minutes later, another splash could be heard on the ocean followed by the faint echoes of a red-head's scream of terror.

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It took another half a day long for the three ships to reach the end of the forestry regions of Ashenvale and pass slowly the green plains below it that slowly leads to the barrens of Kalimdor. Even from where they are, the Night Elf Priestess could see already the brown ahead of the desert that who-knows-what species called their homes.

"I was wondering when the trees will end," chuckled Harrold beside her from the railing, startling Tyrande badly.

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?" blinked the Templar Grandmaster owlishly in question.

"That!" snapped Tyrande. She merely rolled her eyes at his remaining questioning gaze before peering again forwards at the lands that she had never laid eyes on in her immortal life.

"So what's it called?"

"What?" Tyrande interrupted from her gazing looked at the red-head perpetrator who until now she can't identify if; is it Fred or George.

"What's it called Tyra?" repeated the red haired knight. Like Harrold, he and his twin didn't take long to start abandoning the use of her title once they knew her na/me unlike the other men-at-arms on their boat whom the High Priestes did not fail to see are also peering over the edge on wonder at the lands so different from the home she had left behind.

"I don't know,"

"What?!"

Tyrande only looked incredulously at the still unknown red-head, annoyed. "Don't make me keep on repeating what I said whoever you are," she added a growl for good measure. Judging from the amused look on his face though, he isn't intimidated one bit.

"But-,"

"Enough Fred!" cut off Harrold finally taking pity on her. "Get back to your post and tell everyone also. Sound the horn on the two ships. Any corsair with a ram can take down any of our ships before we can yell if we keep this up,"

"Yes Grandmaster," saluted Fred before running off. It did not take long before the shouts of: "Get back to your posts lads! Show's over! Come on move it!" It was then followed by the sound of a horn blowing above the deck that spurred the sailors of the _Vigilant_ and the _Saint Elizabeth_ back to their posts leaving Tyrande alone with Harrold.

For reasons unknown to her, Tyrande immediately felt awkward being left at the clutches of the esteemed and handsome Templar Grandmaster. One part of her head were echoing the words of promise that her best friend extracted from her after she exposed her secret to Tyrande on that fateful knight. However another part of her can't help but feel jealous. It would be very inconvenient for her if she exposed her best friend. With Alleia either executed or simply ripped to pieces (which is to be considered) by the majority of the mob of Kaldorei for her breaking of their laws. The position of closest Night Elf to Harrold would fall on her. She did not miss some of the looks he stole to her from time to time which always left her tingling and appreciated like the first days when Malfurion was courting her.

Indeed it would be too easy. If Alleia is killed, Harrold would obviously mourn her. The two are close, closer than even they could see if Tyrande's hunches are right. If any of them suddenly die, the other is sure to feel the pain in a vengeance. He would have no other choice but to also then comfort her since she would be the person that Alleia is closest to in terms of both family and friend. His honor would require it and what a convenience it would be then for her. She would be the shoulder that he would cry on and she would be the ear that would listen as he poured his heart out. She would be Alleia's replacement as his mate and he will belong to her with the gifts of immortality that her best friend died for. It is sure to happen if she did choose to betray Alleia and decide to take Harrold as her future mate for later.

"Tyrande! Tryande?" the voice of the Grandmaster snapped the Night Elf Priestess off of her stupor of thought as she moved her silver blue eyes to met the emerald ones of the Grandmaster who looked worriedly at her direction.

"Yes? Did you say something Harrold?" covering up her slip of thought with the regal tone that she usually used when talking.

An amused smirk only appeared at her Terran friend's face. "I'm asking if you have ever been on this place?" pointed out Harrold as the first vestiges of the barren deserts started to appear on the horizon leaving the grassy plains behind.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously,"

"No," Tyrande sighed as she leaned on the railing watching the grass turn brown. "I've never been past a mile away from south of Ashenvale actually. Seeing a land as empty as these...it felt wrong to me, to my kind. We have lived so long where we are among the trees and plants that we love and cared; sharing a part of ourselves to them. To see a place where there are none of them, it causes pain,"

"Do you want to go back? You can always go back you know. I can commision the _Saint Elizabeth_ to return you with the rest of your Sentinels on your lands. It is not your problem that you came to solve after all. We can carry on the rest of the way on our own,""

Tyrande only stared amusedly at the Templar Grandmaster who blushed and then looked away. _"You and your Elune blessed honor Harrold. If only you know the thoughts that I have about you, then you won't look at me twice,"_ thought Tyrande to herself.

"I'm coming with you Harrold and that's final. What would the other Sentinels think of me if I came back like a coward just because I am afraid of a little sand. Think of my reputation,"

Harrold only blinked at her. "Are you serious Tyra?"

"Of course," replied the Night Elf in a pouting manner not caring how much effect she had on her Terran friend who went red at how cute she looked at the moment. "Besides, I seriously can't let you wander off in this waste with only four hundred men clad in arms to the teeth. You need lighter troops than that if you want to survive on a place like that," she then gestured to her Sentinel armor that had been washed and cleaned by the Temple's servants beforehand. She didn't miss the wandering eyes of the Templar Grandmaster to wander into her form appreciatively before noticing her stare and looking forward immediately with a blush on his ear.

As usual Tyrande, felt flattered. She knew that it is a sore subject for the Terrans, especially the Knights about the armor and clothing of the Kaldorei. Apparently from where they came from, they're not exactly open on showing their bodies off to the public like her people are wont to do. Tyrande herself don't understand why they are so conservative. Its not like they had something to hide right? If Harrold's body is anyway as good as yummy as it can be seen outside, Tyrande only shivered as she imagined him dressed in male Night Elven clothes. Thinking about him bare-chested made "In love Tyrande" part of her roar in envy at Alleia being the one to bed him. Anyway, she had more than heard one gossip during the nights where many of the Kaldorei would bath at the moonwells about the knights and the men-at-arms that her sisters loved flirting with. Them being uncomfortable made them a fun game for the male deprived species of her kind. Oh Cenarius would get his druid ass happily drunk and tease them mercillesly if he ever got wind of the things that her sisters discussed during the baths. (Which is mostly which male they would be hooking up, letting them pine after them before acting all coy and shy and disappearing to the woods). It might not be fair for the Terrans, but who says life is fair anyway?

"My lord!" the sudden interruption of one of the Templar Knights broke the awkwardness of the situation the two are currently having making Tyrande giggle at the relieved expression that left the Grandmater's face. She might never admit it, but using her poise and beauty to unsettle Harrold had been currently one of her most favorite pastimes.

"What is it John?" spoke Harrold to the Knight who saluted before looking warily at Tyrande who merely rose an eyebrow and didn't move despite the unsaid words that he doesn't want her here.

Harrold noticing the looks the two are throwing merely waved to his subordinate to speak.

"The _Vigilant_ longboats ahead have returned my lord. They have spotted us a safe harbor two miles from where we are currently. It is wide enough to fit all three ships and have cover on all sides. Sir Fred Weadley have-," he suddenly paused as the Night Elf Priestess giggled rudely stopping him mid-word making him glare at her. Tyrande didn't bother apologizing.

"Just continue John," Harrold waved again with a sigh throwing a pointing look at her. Tyrande just poked her tongue out in retaliation.

Looking at the childish banter the two had, the knight simply continued on. "Sir Fred my lord suggests that we harbor there. It is defendable and are flat enough to establish our temporary camp. Signs of heavy boots found by the longboats on the shore may also be significance of Sir Diggory and Lady Monte Delacour's passing with their men,"

"Very well, signal the other ships John. Tell them we're taking Sir Weadley's advice. Three light signs to the other ships. Have every able bodied man ready to fight to disembark in half an hour,"

"Yes Grandmaster," the Knight saluted but not before throwing a scathing look at Tyrande who can't resist showing off her longer than average canines at him. He shivered once before leaving the deck to the two.

"Do you really have to scare him off?"

"No," shrugged Tyrande simply. "But I enjoyed making fun of him. You don't want me to be only sad and morose like you do you?" Tyrande looked up at the Grandmaster who only snorted at her words.

"And since when did I became all sad and morose as you say Tyra?"

"I don't know, maybe since the first day I met you at that forest," replied the Priestess with a mock-thoughtful expression. "You're all so uptight about your honor this and honor that. I can't do this. I can't do that. If that's not being uptight, then I don't know what that is,"

"And is that a bad thing?" blinked Harrold quite confused.

 _"Nope, I won't have it any other way,"_ in love Tyrande part of her replied thoughtfully but with a great effort, the Priestess of the Moon squashed that part before it can form into coherent words and instead replied:

"Yes, maybe a little. Trust me Harrold. Looking all so grim and proper all the time would make you look like Alleia soon,"

"I would be doing it even more if I can be as beautiful as her then," chuckled the Grandmaster looking at the other ships sharing signal lights with one another as Harrold's orders are transmitted. He didn't notice the flinch of Tyrande nor the pang of hurt that shadowed her eyes for a second before she managed to school them to a smirk so that he wouldn't notice.

"I see," chuckled Tyrande, trying hard to squash the feelings of pain that echoed like a drum on her chest in envy. The urge to grab the nearest pigeon carrier that the Templars had to carry long messages to one another are growing stronger inside her and it took all her love and loyalty to Alleia not to write to the Council about her planned activities and get her out of her way to Harrold's heart.

"Tyra? Are you alright? You know, you have looked ill ever since we left this journey. Be honest with me Tyra. Are you really alright?"

 _"No, I'm not,"_ her thoughts mourned wanting nothing more than to admit her feelings.

 _"Promise me Tyra! Promise me!"_ the voice of her friend that night echoed again on her long ears. A promise that she fervently wished she had not taken.

 _"I promise,"_

"Of course Harrold!" laughed Tyrande startling the Templar Grandmaster at the slightly hysterical sound lacing it. "Now stop asking me if I'm alright and tell me what the heck are those shell things are?"

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Harrold had to admit that the scouts that the _Vigilant_ had sent proved their worth when the three ships arrived at the edge of the aforementioned "protective harbor". It is a cove protected well by jutting outlyings of rock that could cover the ships from the random squalls that might be thrown by the sea. Of course they have to set anchors a little offshore since the lack of planks and an actual harbor would cause the ships to ran aground on the beach sands. They had to be transported by longboats which is not a problem thankfully. It might be a bit slower than they expected, but it would had to do for now until they can make a makeshift harbor where they can bring their ships closer then.

He also can't help but feel proud at the sight of a large oasis at the beachside with a little spring on it. Their temporary camp at least would be a little comfortable. He and his men had brought water in barrels that could last them three months when rationed since they don't know how long their hunt would take on finding their lost comrades. But the presence of an oasis certainly negated that downside. Harrold mentally thanked Lady Luck for such a blessing. Fighting in the desert isn't exactly a new thing for them Knights and their men-at-arms, but the majority of his forces which belonged to the Legions trained by Callahorn are not. It would do them good to have a shady spot before they get used to the desert.

"Drop Anchors!" the shout of the ship captain of _Galahad_ and Harrold slowly made his way to the side of the deck where thirteen of his men, Templar Knights already are assembled with their packs, dressed in desert armor waiting for him. Beside them is Tyrande who gave him a nervous smile with a pouting Arko' and a red-faced Colin beside her.

"I had a feeling that you would be coming with me," Harrold smiled at Tyrande as he walked towards them.

"Of course. I can't have you running off and get yourself tripping again won't I?" chuckled Tyrande as he stepped in beside her.

"Whipped," laughed one of the Knights before the Grandmaster's gaze clamped on him making him immediately shut up as they prepared the boat that is slowly being let down on the sea waters.

Harrold however can't help but notice the two extra additions that they had.

"We only have room for fifteen men or women," Harrold added before looking at his and Tyrande's apprentices' faces who morphed with horror. "Find another boat, both of you," ordered Harrold.

"My lady," Arko'Narin looked panicked at being separated from her but Tyrande beside her also waved her off.

"He's right Arko'. We all can't fit in one boat. Take his squire with you and keep him alive alright?"

Arko' only gurgled in outrage at her teacher's words but Harrold decided to add his own coin in to his own apprentice seeing the amusement dancing on Tyrande's face.

"And you Colin," he took a serious tone staring at the nervous look of his squire. "I believe that you would take care of Lady Arko' here right? Don't shame us. You're my only squire and everything that you act reflects on me. Stick with her always or else I'm throwing you overboard next time we're at sea,"

Harrold had to cough as the young boy saluted in a mixture of pride and nervousness as he practically grabbed Arko'Narin's hand (since when did he got over his nervousness on taking a girl's hands? Or in Arko's case, exceedingly beautiful) and ran to the nearest available ship dragging an outraged and protesting Kaldorei Sentinel-in-training with him.

"Do you really have to be so mean?" asked Tyrande giggling in amusement like the other knights who had seen the interaction of the two.

"No. But you had to admit, it's fun making the two of them squirm," shrugged Harrold as he saw at least twelve longboats being at least prepared. There are more, but they are reserved for emergencies. The current twelve had to ferry the rest back and forth.

"They would make a good couple maybe one day," pointed out the Grandmaster.

"Arko's two hundred Harrold," replied Tyrande simply. "You're squire's sixteen, don't you think he's a little too young for that?"

"You never saw Neville gagging in revulsion ever since he and Jaelyn consummated their marriage despite centuries older than him did you? I swear, the morning after his wedding night, the guy perhaps had a permanent grin and smile on his face with his wife. Now that you mention it though. I'm pretty sure she is limping a lot when we invited her to breakfast at-,"

"Stop! Just stop!" Tyrande practically yelled. "I don't want to imagine what our gardener have been up to in her married life,"

Harrold only chuckled with the rest who have been listening, dropping the subject as they watched the longboat land with a splash on the waves below them. Ropes tied at its prow and front prevented it from being washed away by the current.

"So how do we get down towards there?" asked Tyrande curiously looking at the boat and checking for any signs of handholds or anything. "Do we levitate?"

"No," answered Harrold at how comfortable Tyrande's race is on using magic. "We rappel them down,"

"Rappel down?"

"Yes, look," Harrold pointed at his knights and the other people grab the middle rope that led to the center of the unwieldy longboats and slide down towards them.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Tyrande said in a hiss. "There's no way I'm doing that! That barely can be called safe!"

"It is safe," insisted Harrold. "Don't tell me you're afraid of heights?"

Tyrande only glared balefully at him. "No! I'm not. And I'm not going. I'll fell if I ever do that. Give me a cliff and a waterfall anytime, but nothing like this,"

Harrold can't help but make an irritating noise as he glanced that he is only second to the last now. Looking at the other longboats that have Night Elves assigned to them. He can't help but notice that they are also having the same problem as he is. There is even the sound of a slap as one of the Legionnaires tried to push one on the middle rope followed by a water splashing as said Legionnaire are thrown overboard by the Sentinel. Harrold wondered how his squire is fairing with Arko'Narin.

"Fine!" snapped Harrold. "Climb on my back,"

Tyrande's eyebrows literally shot to her hairline as she looked at him incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"

Ignoring his flaming cheeks at the implication of what she might be thinking, Harrold repeated his words to her. "Climb on my back and hold tight as I rappel down,"

Tyrande didn't move for a minute glaring at him only making Harrold squirm before nodding. Cheeks burning literally, Harrold tried to block out his thoughts as Tyrande's body clung to his like a spider; making "little Harry" incredibly happy as it reacted to the half naked oversexy and illegally beautiful priestess.

 _"I wonder if this is how heaven feels like,"_ thought Harrold as he stood up grunting, his hands going on Tyrande's supple legs for support as he reached for the rope with the free hand he had left. The feeling of her pressed to him felt perfect. It didn't help that her chest which is quite regular on Kaldorei standards and not on Terrans is pressed firmly on his back. Her scent of wildflowers filled his senses and he nearly let go of the rope and settle on daydreaming while cuddling this magnificent beautiful creature trembling in fear as he grabbed the rope.

"Are you ready?" Harrold asked her as he tightened his hand on the rope.

"As I can be," she simply replied with a nervous chuckle, her breath on his ear.

Harrold only nodded and rappelled down. The campaign on Kalimdor had finally started. Again he wondered how is his squire if Night Elves is as nervous about rappelling down is as bad as Tyrande who is currently latched to him like a spider.

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A group of Legionnaires were busy removing the ropes that held the longboat from _Saint Elizabeth_ when they were startled by a sudden drawn out cry. They looked up in time to see a red and silver clad figure sail out of the deck of _Galahad_ , turn over once and then land with an enormous splash in the dark waters of the sea. They shrugged and simply went back to work

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 **Sorry I havent update regularly. I downloaded a new game SIMS MEDIEVAL II and Im quite addicted. Makes writing hard hehehe. Anyway hope ya liked it. Please fave and review.**

 **Thank you for the ever support on this story. We've reached ten chapters now and don't worry. Ive already planned major scenes and an ending.**

 **Suggestions for mountain names (Dwarfish) and possible name for a group of Horse Lords.**

 **Thank you for the reviews. Trust me. It gives me insight and helps me steer my stories. Dont think Im not putting your requests into consideration.**

 **SPOILERS:**

 **\- Grand Alliance**

 **\- Expansion of Terrans (More cities, possibly three)**

 **\- Possibly Hostile Continents**

 **\- Sunstrider King Ass**

 **\- Lordaeron King Asss**

 **\- Friendship with Arthas.**

 **\- Present Windrunner Sisters**

 **\- Marriage agreements**

 **\- Formation of the Church**

 **\- Meeting the Aspects**

 **\- Mating with Alexstrasza**

 **\- Dance of Dragons**

 **\- Reformation of Stormwind**

 **\- War against the Pirates**

 **\- Character Death**

 **\- Challenge of Deathwing**

 **\- War against the Legion (Ending)**

 **This is all planned and the story would pass all this. I wont be changing it whatsoever other than the sideline stories that might come behind.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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Half a day, that's how long it takes for the Legionnaires with the knights and their men-at-arms to finish building an acceptable harbor and erect their camp at the southern part of the oasis where the waters gather.

The camp would have been a lot sturdier and better if not for the Night Elves with them protesting vehemently on protecting the few outlying palm trees on the oasis. Being a diplomat, Harrold of course concede to their wishes and did not push it. That of course meant that they had to endure using the watered down spare wood and canvas that they had packed with them from their ships. It only took thirty minutes before Tyrande and the other Elves finally put their foot down after sweating it with a hut that smelled rancid and that of the sea.

Harrold and the other humans with reluctant Kaldorei soon built their temporary dwellings here on the shores, on a land that they knew nothing about.

Right now though currently with everyone busy or resting, the Templar Grandmaster took the time to walk at the borders of the camp watching the wilds surrounding them. An ordinary commander would think that being surrounded by mountain slopes at all sides with only the sea at your back is a bad idea.

Harrold disagrees.

Yes, it is true that they indeed have the advantage of seeing them below and also the advantage of a powerful charge that can breach even the most coordinated of lines of any army with the momentum that such a charge can bring. However Harrold had found a way to turn such advantages to disadvantages if you used your brain for a bit.,

While having the advantage of view by seeing them below. Such an action however would require for any observer to reveal themselves to peer down on the open ground of the heights of the mountain slopes. A big fat target for any longbowman worth his penny and anyone who knows how to wield a crossbow (which is everyone since all you need to do with a crossbow is click only). Such an action of peering down, even if the observer crept can alarm the enemy below before the attacker can even fart in panic disposing any sort of surprise tha their attack might have caused. And any commander worth his title knew how much value surprise can be on determining the results of a battle.

On the other hand, while having the advantage of a powerful charge at a slope like this. One always conveniently forgot the old saying: "Where there's an advantage present; never forget to look also for the black spot on the paper no matter how small,". Sure, any soldier can charge like a battering ram rolling on the hillside with the slope advantage. However what goes with the incredible acceleration is the impossibility of breaking. Any opposing commander can only maneuver their troops the proper way and this powerful advantage can be turned to one big juicy fat trap for a charging army on the slope.

Even trash grease oil in fact plastered on the ground can cause havoc when used against these technic correctly. A measure of the said substance here and there could cause a lot of broken necks and spines.

And also Harrold isn't dumb enough to know that their arrival here won't be noticed.

Already he saw the dust of what could only be a raiding party coming over from the west slope. It won't be long before the sentries would also notice the coming party and sound the alarm. The Templar Grandmaster isn't surprised that they are under attack. He had enough experience to know about deserts to know that deserts have always been unforgivng places. Challenging and deceitful for the wise and cunning, but deadly and a herald of death for the cowardly and inexperienced.

Other than the suffocating heat which is a desert's greatest defense, one would have to also look out to the local wildlife. Big cats and desert wolves, preying birds that attacks the weak and sick, scorpions and snakes that hides on the sand. However it would not be called a desert at all without someone in there planning to rob you like today.

If there is one thing that Harrold had learned on his six month stay at Azeroth. It is the fact that anything he and his people found on Earth have been exponentially multiplied five times in wonder here at Azeroth.

"Harrold!" Tyrande's panicked voice snapped the Templar Grandmaster back to the present as he leveled his gaze on the beautiful Priestess who looked alarmed,"

"Tyra?" Harrold blinked as the Kaldorei skidded with grace despite obviously panting in effort, her violet skin glistening with sweat. "Is there something wrong?" asked Harrold quite confused as the Priestess regained her straight posture taking deep breaths.

"We are under attack!" she suddenly said still wheezing. "One of my Sentinels that I sent out as a scout came from the West saying that a large group of Centaurs and humans but with no hair and green skin are coming this way in force!"

"Ahh I see," nodded Harrold in understanding. It seems the cat is out of the bag now.

He mentally berated himself though. He should have expected that Tyrande would send her own soldiers out on the field despite him not asking her to. He knew of course the reason why. While essentially true that the Kaldorei race can be graceful in ways that his people can never hope to be. The slender females however with their skimpy armor and colored skins would let them stand out here like sore thumbs on the desert. The only reason why he didn't push the Priestess for putting her troops in danger is the sad fact that he didn't command them and the Kaldorei would be offended. If there is one thing that Tyrande's race have in abundance, its pride.

As if on cue then to confirm the Priestess' words. The watch tower on the west suddenly blew out a horn call of alarm as the dust of the oncoming Horde started to show itself slowly gaining charge on the Western slopes.

"Ahh they're here then," said Harrold as the entire camp are roused and already a small line of Legionnaires that had been on duty stood at ready on the face of such adversary not flinching as the entirety of the charging horde came even closer, their woops and hollers echoing from where Harrold and Tyrande stood.

"Come Tyrande, let's show these rabid animals why they need to fear to the Alliance," smirked Harrold before drawing his own sword as he gestured for her to follow, and not waiting to see if she is, strode forward confidently in a way that a Templar only could.

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"My lady!"

"My lady!"

"What do we do?!"

"We need to retreat back to the boats!"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Let it be said and known that the Kaldorei people are not cowards. Far from it in fact. Whereas other races' females hide and run in safety in face of adversity and trouble, Kadorei females stood their ground. That is saying something. The punishment of being at the losing side if you're a Sentinel and not killed during a defeated battle is horrifying. Her race's gift of beauty can be a two edged sword and at times be considered a curse.

"Are we seriously thinking of facing that my lady?" asked Tyrande's student beside her trembling from head to toe like most of her Sentinels in fear as the numbers of the rapidly nearing horde of Centaurs and unknown green men with tattoos on their bodies got even closer to the defensive line that the Terrans had set up behind a stream.

"If it was up to me, no," scowled Tyrande. She had chased after the Grandmaster where he made quick counsel with Fred and George who led the Templar knights and Oswald the Fat, a rather large man who had the title obviously a mockery with his bulging muscles leading the Legionnaires as their Centurion.

Tyrande had wondered then until now if the Grandmaster had any sort of death wish for them and a rather worse fate for her and her Sentinels with his crazy plan. A plan that stated nothing more than they form a defensive line between two of the makeshift towers they built with the Legionnaires with the knights and their men-at-arms as reserve heavy cavalry. Tyrande was rather skeptical at that.

The Centaurs are no pushovers and she worried if the square shields of the Legionnaires can handle the force of a charging downstroke of a Centaur's axe.n

Of course she knew about the half-man, half-horse cannibals. Centaurs might not intrude on their lands, but she had seen them wander on the grassy plains south of Felwood at times killing everything that moves and eating them raw. It is a blessing that they never chanced passing through the eaves of the green woods. Centaurs travel in horde's like this one though she had no idea who the green skinned people fighting at their sides are.

As it was right now, the Priestess of Elune is just thankful that Harrold placed her and her Sentinels at the eastern part of the line near the docks. If the worse comes to worst, she could order her Sentinels to cast off into the sea where the _Vigilant_ stayed offshore unlike the _Saint Elizabeth_ and _Galahad_ which had already anchored on the new harbor.

"Just ready your packs girls in case we need to beat a hasty retreat," warned Tyrande. "There's a high probability that we will lose today,"

"Will we?" asked one of the Sentinels.

Tyrande shrugged, not sure. There are at least a thousand plus Centaur screamers and a lot more green men with them versus the six hundred and sixty that their forces had in combination. Not to mention that their enemy had every advantage. There's a very big chance that the horde can simply trample them on foot and even reach her and her Sentinels position before they can manage to run. It is only after witnessing Harrold's victory during the Battle of Felwood that made Tyrande even consider that they would have some sort of victory.

"I'm not sure," mumbled the Priestess as she gripped her bow tighter as the space between the two forces drew nearer, the sound of the hooves literally shaking the ground now.

"You better get to your positions now," urged Tyrande to her Sentinels as the line after line of Legionnaires readied themselves as they locked shields while the knights and their men-at-arms readied themselves either by double checking their weapons or patting the necks of their horses to calm the skittish animals.

Patting the side of her own Frost Saber, Nymeria. Tyrande walked to the side with her mount beside Harrold who are watching the approaching raiders with a calm and steady gaze at the forefront of the assembled knights. Ignoring the curious looks of his men, Tyrande approached him.

"You're not nervous?" asked the Priestess as she leveled with him before proceeding to watch the approaching horde.

"I am,"

"You don't look like it,"

"I had participated in so many wars that I got used to this feeling. The calm before the storm,"

"I see," nodded Tyrande observing their enemy as they drew in too close for comfort. In fact they had already passed the marker where the bows of the Kaldorei and even the short range of the men-at-arms that Harrold's men had can be effective. Some of her Sentinels are already looking at her in a questioning gaze as to why they are not given the order to shoot yet.

"Harrold,"

"Not yet," is the simple reply, the Grandmaster's green eyes poring over with light at the large force approaching.

"Harrold," Tyrande can't help but whisper now as the hollers and the whoops of the centaurs and the green men almost reached the line of Legionnaires.

"Not yet,"

Tyrande instinctually knocked an arrow on her bow ready to release it at the next second in nervousness when suddenly something she didn't expect happened.

Screams of pain, outrage and fury suddenly escalated from the front charge of the advance as feet and hooves sunk and skidded on the floor sand that are apparently nothing more than camouflage for the long line of muddy ground that extended horizontally right and left breaking the charge.

The Priestess of Elune felt her jaw drop. The result is pandemonium. The sound of bones cracking, the fall of bodies one after another. The surprise yelps as they sank to their ankles and the cursing of the centaurs on their own tongue as they flailed and kicked. The entire frontal charge collapsed and the next ones are caught in the ruin. Their momentum true and earnest that can trample any army down on their feet was their undoing. Unable to break and stop, they either stepped on their downed comrades who are then trampled by the being after them before also slipping, falling and sliding as they lost balance and charge. Nearly all of the Centaurs at the middle and front charge fell for the crash. The green men with scimitars were a bit lucky and did not join their comrades in the pandemonium.

However the result is already finished and half if not more of the enemy forces which provided the main threat for their army are now writhing the ground in pain while the rest is still trying to figure out what the hell happened.

"Now! Archers!" Harrold suddenly shouted; nearly making Tyrande drop her bow. She had been watching in wonder at how their enemy suddenly lost half their forces in the matter of minutes. She had never seen anything like it and she isn't sure exactly how Harrold had done it. She'll bet her chastity that he had already foreseen all of this.

"My lady!" called Arko' from where she stood with the rest of the Sentinels snapping Tyrande out of her own daze.

"Right," Tyrande pulled herself together before looking at her archers. "Alright sisters! Let us show these monsters why they need to fear the oldest of races. _Elune Belore!_ "

 _"Elune Belore!"_ the cheer went up as sixty bows snapped in unison and a half second after sent a second hail of arrows after the first wave.

Tyrande only watched in pride as the shafts of her Sentinels fell like a small rain on the struggling Centaurs and green men running around like headless ducks adding even more to the pandemonium. Despite herself, Tyrande can't help but let a small smile grace her face at the whoops and cheers of the Legionnaires and men-at-arms who stood ready. Only the knights it seemed and Harrold retained their composure as they watched the battle unfold. Tyrande herself also knew why. The fight isn't finished yet and it is too early to celebrate despite the nearing smell of victory.

In a way she was right on expecting it. The green bald men realizing that staying with their allies and helping them out on their predicament would be like signing a death warrant with the Kaldorei arrows showering them while they are sitting ducks; decided to cut their losses leaving the wounded half-men, half horses to their fate as they rallied and charged again with a howl braving the arrows of the Kaldorei who put many of them down with precise shots. Trampling their dead and wounded, they drew closer to the line of Legionnaires, the last momentum of the mountain slope giving their charge a speed boost.

"Be ready men! This is what we have been training for!" yelled Oswald the Fat from the middle line at the forefront with the rest of the Legionnaires. "For Hearth!"

"And Home!" answered four hundred throats as every man braced himself spears lowered.

It is said that the meeting of two armies have always taken a large part of the epics and ballads of books and stories. Many writers have described it as glorious. The men fighting it proud and strong as they fought with might and honor for the glory of their people. Tyrande had read stories like that when she was an initiate and before the war. However she knew better.

War is not about glory. War is about victory.

The crunching sound made when the green men met the shields and spears of the Legionnaires nearly made the Priestess' teeth rattle as the sounds of men cursing, steel hitting flesh as the green men succumbed to the waiting spears of the Legion , moans of mercy and the dying pervaded suddenly not far from her. She was sure that the charge would have stumbled a large part of Harrold's forces. She had been surprised by the Legionnaire's resilience. Sure they took steps back from the sudden clash, but the second and third line braced their shields at the back of their fellow soldiers stopping the tracks of green men as many of their forefront soldiers moaned in pain as they are squished between the weight of their comrades and the heavy duty shields of the Legion.

Then the killing started.

However like the Battle of Felwood, Tyrande never experienced a battle like these.

The green men fought like wild animals. Hacking and slashing at the wall of shields that didn't budge a bit. Many of them tried pulling the shields to breach the Legionnaires line but the shields have straps to their arms making it impossible to pull the shield out without also pulling the user with it. Time and strength are needed to do that which the Legion did not give to them as they abandoned their spears and instead used their swords darting out like little knives through the sides of the interlocked shields hitting whatever flesh they could see. It didn't matter what they hit. A stab through a leg or an arm is enough to bring down a soldier no different from being stabbed through the gut or neck. Precision arrows from her Sentinels aided the Terrans killing green men who tried to outflank or outjump the line of shields that remained like an unmoving wall despite the mad rush.

Not that they aren't taking casualties of their own.

Every now and then one of the Legionnaires would drop dead being hit by overhead jumps of the green men who seemed to retain no self-preservation as they leaped over the wall of shields striking left and right at anything they could hit. Sure it got them killed but they took Terrans with them. Tyrande can't help but look worriedly at Harrold who is gritting his teeth at every man that died on the Legion's line. Tyrande knew he cared for his people. Not to mention that their numbers are limited to thirty thousand right now. Quite numerous for a start but not much enough that the Terrans can afford large losses. Sure their numbers are slowly growing, but it takes time for people to grow up.

"Front line! Push!" Oswald the Fat's shout pulled the Priestess of Elune out of her worries as she concentrated on the battle back trying to stop as many jumping green men as she can with her bow as the entire Legion's line pushed forward unbalancing the lightly armored green men, putting them at range with the darting swords of the Legion.

"Prepare to charge," Harrold's command stopped Tyrande from releasing another arrow as she looked in disbelief at her love interest.

"You're going?" she can't help but ask horrified as the hundred knights and their men-at-arms mounted their horses.

"Yes," nodded Harrold. "If we charge now, we can force them to break ranks and retreat. Once one person runs, the others would soon follow,"

"But you'll be in danger!" protested Tyrande.

Harrold only smiled warmly at her as he cantered his horse nearer to her before nearly making Tyrande faint in alarm as her blush went from ratings one to one hundred as he bent down and touched her cheek, patting it gently. "Thank you for worrying for me Tyra," he smiled once more before standing straight up as he looked at his men.

"Alright men! Prepare to charge. God wills it!"

"God wills it!" a hundred throats echoed in unison as the cavalry drew their swords and charged on both flanks of the Legion's line and riding down the green men who is unprepared for the sudden heavy cavalry charge that appeared out of nowhere. The horses of the knights drove straight wedges on the enemy's line; and as Harrold pointed out, some of them panicked and are starting to run. However at the back of Tyrande's head, she felt uneasy. Something bad is going to happen soon and she felt sick for some reason. Making up her mind, Tyrande faced one of the Sentinels beside her.

"Sister, get me Nymeria,"

"My lady you're-," squawked the Sentinel in protest but Tyrande cut her off.

"Yes, I am charging too. Now go hurry!"

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Pablo Reed watched with disdain as the enemy below him started thrashing his army. Naruud was right. Despite the overwhelming force that he had put on the raid and the advantage of terrain at their side, the young Templar Grandmaster once more managed to outwit them. Still, it doesn't matter. Naruud had interpreted this and with the young Grandmaster charging with his honor-consumed knights, everything is going according to plan. Naruud has already left and it would not be long before the young Grandmaster would meet his end. Pablo had not forgotten the knight's fault on him in his first life.

He had been a slaver and a smuggler before at Acre. He had lived a life of luxury. He inherited the underhanded business of his father after he put a knife on his gut. He ruled the criminal world of Acre with an iron fist and even the local constable do not dare stop him and his activities even if they know. The lord of the city himself received a generous cut from his business and even covered his tracks. He had a beautiful wife and two daughters. Life was good for Pablo Reed.

Until that blasted Templar Grandmaster came sniffing around with his men after the fall of Jerusalem investigating his criminal records.

Of course his enemies on the business who wanted to get rid of the competition and the ruling factor sold him out quite quick and the knights shackled him after they invaded his manor. It had all come to hell then. He was sent to prison to be hanged on the gallows, his wife committed suicide after their wealth was seized, his two daughters he later learned, worked on a brothel to eat and survive. He swore vengeance against the honorable Grandmaster that brought down his life and that vengeance he kept as he descended on oblivion when the noose tightened on his throat.

That was then that he woke up here on Kalimdor beside a hovering black mass entity that promised him vengeance against the Grandmaster who is to come here. He had united all the bandits on this area and with Naruud's sorcery and help. He removed their wills, making them nothing more than pawns for his vengeance. He also managed to make an unholy alliance with the cannibal centaurs as he promised them fresh meat from the outlying villages of folks of the dusty desert plains. He was thankful he's not religious like those sheep that followed kissed the ground where the priests walked. If he does, he would have been screaming at his head off at how dark Naruud's magic were. As of now he no longer cared. He'll call the demons if it meant he can have revenge against the cause of his and his family's demise.

And now his hour of vengeance is at hand.

He grinned as the knights went another sally killing many of his men again in the process. It would not be long now before his vengeance is finally fulfilled.

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 _"Why are they not running?"_ thought Harrold in wonder as the green men continued howling and pressing their savage and uncouth attacks against his men and knights. They are less than two hundred now but they don't show any signs of breaking just yet despite the near obvious loss.

Part of Harrold is inspired by their bravery while another part of him is alarmed that the battle still continued, resulting into more deaths of his men. Balinor had trained them well, that was a fact with how efficient they were. However even the most trained of soldiers can be killed in battles like these, like now.

Urging his horse forward even more to keep up the momentum of his knights as they drove wedges on the scattered enemy lines. Harrold drove his longsword again down cleaving one of the green men from face to chest before swiping another at his opposite side repeating the process again and again leaving a trail of death behind him. Around him, the Templars did the same keeping up with their leader, drunk with the near prize of victory at hand. Already the cheers of the Terrans are becoming obvious as their morale rose at the closeness of victory. Harrold himself is becoming relieved. He may be no stranger to war, but he certainly does tire of it.

The Templar Grandmaster never saw the black shadow that suddenly spun like a wheel cutting through green men and Templars alike like weeds on a grass before reaching him. The only warning he had of it was the sudden panicked lurching of his horse as it reared. He never even got to calm it down though before it suddenly lost its head, blood spurting from the stump of its neck throwing the Templar Grandmaster on the ground.

Groggy and disoriented, Harrold pulled himself together as he leaned on his longsword planted on the ground to face whatever had attacked him. His eyes narrowed though both in fear and alarm at the sight of his attacker.

It looked like a human woman, a human woman possessed by an insectoid body and carapace making her look like an abomination between insect and human. She had glowing yellow eyes and had six limbs that looked like spider's limbs. She had no hair, but dreadlocks of black which looked like writhing snakes.

Everyone had stopped fighting then; both Terrans and green men as they stared at this abomination who stood against the Templar Grandmaster who then laughed as Harrold wobbled to his feet.

"Who are you?" groaned the Templar leaning on the heavy weapon.

"I knew you'd find your way into this place...eventually," her voice like the hiss of snakes sent shivers down Harrold's spine as his very being urged him to run at the opposite direction.

"Your very presence defiles this place Demon!" Harrold snarled. He had no idea what this thing is or even if it belonged to any kingdoms on Azeroth. It had killed his men and him almost. It has to die.

"Do you hear them Chosen One?" chuckled the woman-insect fingering one of her dreadlocks ignoring Harrold's flinch at her words. "This world and other worlds will burn. They're coming,"

Alarm bells immediately tolled on the Grandmaster's words as he remembered the warning of the One who sent him here and his people. The future of this world and how it rests on their hands to change it though the coming of "Him" is inevitable.

"Perhaps," replied Harrold looking down on the ground making sure to keep his expression of that of contemplating before suddenly charging with great strides towards the woman, longsword raised. "But you won't live to see it!"

Roaring, Harrold leaped on the air in a two-handed stroke that would cleave the demon woman from head to groin. He was however suddenly surprised and alarmed as a blue ball of energy left her hand with speeds that only Voldemort had striking him on the chest and leaving him levitated on the air unable to reach her with his sword.

"Please," she merely sneered at him in that smile of hers that showed fangs for teeth. "Our petty lives and conflicts mean nothing now. A storm is coming that cannot be stopped," she chuckled again. "Its a pity that Fate had decreed that we should face oblivion together," she then clenched her fist and before Harrold could decide what to do with her. She punched him on the chest crushing his armor, the impact force passing through his skin, meat and bone before reaching his heart making Harrold gasp as he felt blood leave his lips as breathing became difficult.

He barely registered flying on the ground and cracking the entirety of his ribs and limbs at the impact force.

Coughing and wheezing at where he lay, armor rent and broken. Harrold barely registered the insectoid-human approaching him with slow steps. "Fate cannot be changed. The end draws near. And when it finds this world. I shall be waiting for it,"

Harrold despite the fact that the entirety of his being hurt only chuckled ignoring the stream of blood that fell on the side of his face covered by his helmet. "Prophecies (cough2x) are uncertain. They can be changed. And above all (cough2x)...there is always hope,"

The woman only cocked her head sideways. "Pity," and plunged her hand on his gut piercing his stomach.

Gurgling his last felt everything go cold as his vision dimmed. The last thing he saw before he fell into the void was the face of a panicked Tyrande running towards his direction with a face of fury that he would wish he would never be at the receiving point at.

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 **Hello readers. Sorry for the late upload. Sims medieval took a lot of my writing time. Anyway, that's that. Next chapter would be shown the reason why Harrold was sent back with his people and who. I wont spoil anything though, but sad facts for Tyrande would be there next chapter and a new people. hehehe I wont tell anything about Naruud for now.**

 **Clue: It would not be a Harry Potter fanfiction without a little "flurry" present on it. hehee**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

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 _"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"_

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Tyrande completely saw red as she felt herself moving before she can even think. She had no idea how things went up wrong in an instant. She had rode on her moonsaber, Nymeria as the feeling of dread washed over her about Harrold's fate. For a moment she simply breathed a sigh of relief as she saw her love interest riding down green-men with his fellow Templars like fire on a field of wheat cancelling her worries.

She had simply focused then on killing the rest of the green men on her own side with the help of Nymeria behind the charging knights' flanks to cover her own. Nymeria may not be armored and shorter than the large battlehorses of the Templars, but she had claws, teeth and courage enough to spare on keeping her rider safe but at the same time terrify the green men out of their wits. With them lightly armored and all, the claws and fangs of the moonsaber had no problem ripping them apart while Tyrande alternated with her bow and hunting knife. She had been at the process of decapitating her sixteenth raid when without warning a hush came on the battle so silent that the two forces paused fighting as the insectoid woman silenced ten Templars in one swirl with many green men; leaving them as bloody pulps of armor and flesh on the ground as she faced the Templar Grandmaster who had been thrown off from his horse.

She had watched both in horror and fear as Harrold who had gone toe to toe with her, a being who had training for centuries not only fight a draw but win being thrown around like a rag doll before finally being killed by a hand on the gut ripping through the chain mail armor that he wore.

"Die!" roared Tyrande shooting three arrows in the space of a second atop Nymeria who went along with her friend's rage.

The insectoid woman merely swatted the arrows like flies on the air as she leveled her golden gaze at the Priestess who looked half-mad. "Please...as if you could hurt me Kaldorei," her serpentine voice mocked. And before Tyrande could see it, one of her long limbs struck like a snake piercing through the front left foot of Nymeria who roared in pain as she is unbalanced, crashing on the ground rolling. Tyrande barely managed to jump off the moonsaber's back as she abandoned her bow and instead drew the long hunting knife, lithefully landing at her feet crouched like a cat ready to pounce at the abomination in front of her.

Sparing a glance at the body of Harrold which lay on a pool of his own blood. The Kaldorei Priestess leveled her gaze at her enemy taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. She needed to finish this and she need to finish this fast. She may yet be able to save Harrold if she can defeat her.

 _"Promise me,"_ the echo of Alleia's voice filled Tyrande's ear and before the insectoid being could mock her again. Tyrande pounced without warning of any kind knife in an overhead with speeds that would have killed any Furbolg in one strike.

She can't help but grunt though at the impact as one of the limbs stopped her knife dead on track and her along with it. Tyrande merely did not let the trial of strength occur like most warriors though where they forced their blade against the appendage. Sliding the knife off the limb, the Kaldorei Priestess slashed left and right in speeds that would have made her old friend Illidan jealous. Dancing around the insectoid woman, Tyrande didn't stay in one place for more than a second as the six limbs of the monster tried to keep up with her to no avail.

However the carapace of the monster is too thick for the flimsy knife of the priestess. Sure it had been made in good quality and it is slowly removing chinks of the purple skin. But not enough to make a difference, not enough to keep up with the fast straining muscles of Tyrande. The attacks she is using belonged to the Dance of the Waters, a fast style that gives you advantage in speed and strength but a very large strain for the muscles making the use of it only good for a limited time. Killing a person or thing after all takes nothing more than a few stabs and Tyrande never met an enemy such as this.

Her enemy also noticed the movement of hers slowing down and it did not take long before a powerful straight kick hit the Kaldorei Priestess straight in the gut making Tyrande howl in pain as the heeled foot pierce through her exposed navel and straight to her organs inside causing her internal bleeding as she crashed helplessly on the ground.

Immediately remaining green men began to dogpile her and the Kaldorei Priestess would have met her end there if not for the sudden massive roar that came from the mouth of Oswald the Fat as he led a conglomerate of his Legionnaires, plucking the foes from the beleaguered Kaldorei Priestess as they formed a wall around her just in time as the battle continued.

It did not take long before Arko' and five of her Sentinels appeared at her side helping her up by making her lean at their shoulders as they tried to stop the blood flow from her wound.

"At least you fight well," the serpentine voice of her foe sent tingles at Tyrande's spine as she saw the badly slashed woman approaching the circle of defense by the Legionnaires looking like the knife wounds barely bothered her. "I never...left a fight unfinished before," six limbs immediately rose as they blocked the arrows that came from Arko' and the Sentinels with her right now.

"Come Kaldorei Priestess," chuckled the woman. "Come and join your beloved Grandmaster in oblivion,"

"Not on my watch," growled Oswald drawing a large broadsword from his back, the overlarge sword wielded two-handed looking very out of place with his centurion armor.

"And what is this? Another brave soul to be offered to the void?" the abomination merely sneered mockingly.

"My name is Oswald the Fat! Remember thy name demon for it shall be my blade that will return you to the firing chasms from which you came!" shouted the Centurion before charging forward whirling the broadsword above his head like a toy before slashing at the woman who simply blocked it with one of her limbs.

Tyrande watched in wonder as the heavy blade cut through scaly skin and bone; cutting off the limb cleanly. She just opened her mouth to cheer for the Centurion when five jutted ends of the other limbs erupted from the back of Oswald the Fat and the brave knight coughed once before he is hefted in the air and thrown aside like a rag doll.

"Pathetic," the woman merely sneered licking one of the appendage that is covered in blood with her tongue before leveling her gaze at Tyrande and the others. The Priestess can't help but felt his mouth go dry in fear as she continued her approach to them throwing green men aside in bloody pulps swatting off precise arrows and javelins of both Legion and Kaldorei before a spear that is not their make suddenly hit her back making the battle shut up as they watched the woman growl watching the five foot ash spear lodged on her shoulder bubble up with purple blood.

"This is not over. I'm coming for you soon Priestess," growled the woman holding her injured shoulder before disappearing in black smoke, limbs, body and spear leaving the green men behind who continued their attack on the small band of brave souls who had advanced away from the main line to aid her.

For a moment Tyrande panicked as the remaining a hundred or so green men swarmed the twenty Legionnaires that formed a circular wall against her sisters and her. She knew deep in her heart that she would be a dead she-elf any minute now. There is no way that the twenty would be able to hold for long despite their determination and skill. The moment they break thought, her sisters would be easily killed. Their fighting styles isn't exactly suited for large melee with their knives. They would be ripped to pieces before they can even fight back. The main force of the Legion and the remaining Templars are advancing fast at the flanks of the green men, but they would be too late, especially with an enemy who only cares on slaughtering them right now than escaping.

She is just trying to accept her fate when however a large trumpet call erupted from the top of the slope and Tyrande weakly raised her head to see a group of riders approaching them at charging speed with their banner raised over their heads. Its design is that of the white horse over a field of green.

"Ride! Ride to ruin! And the world's ending!" the lead rider shouted as he crashed like a bludgeoning hammer on the remaining green men who scattered like flies, finally abandoning the encirclement they are doing to the small group as the riders rode over them, trampling the panicked raiders under the hooves of their horses.

Tyrande however did not simply slump down to rest as most soldiers wont to do at the end of the battle.

"Help me Arko'," requested Tyrande sternly ignoring the gawking faces of her Sentinels as she leaned on her student, passing through the lines of dead bodies towards the white clad figure with bloodied mail on the far end of the slope. She was thankful that Arko' immediately realized where she wanted to go and did not ask questions any longer.

Harrold's body is a bloody mess. The gaping wound at his stomach looked large enough and Tyrande is thankful for the small pool of blood that gathered there, or else she would have seen his insides. He's not moving at all and Tyrande felt cold wash over her as the realization started setting in that the Templar Grandmaster had died from blood loss.

Trembling all over, the Kaldorei Priestess can't help the bile that rose on her throat as she then retched on her side as the smell of death filled her nostrils. This just can't be happening. No way, there's no way Harrold is dead. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. There's no way that dumb, honorable, and easy-to-flirt Harrold is dead. He is a leader, a strong pillar that both the Templars and the Kaldorei respected. She'll never say it in his face, but many of the Night Elves since the creation of the Alliance had speculated that they won't need to worry in times of war any longer since the Templar Grandmaster is there to lead his men and them to victory and protect them. More importantly, what the hell is she going to tell Alleia? Her promise to her roared like a lion on her ears in accusations she might throw at her.

 _"You promised!"_

 _"Oathbreaker!"_

 _"You might as well as good killed him!"_

 _"I thought you are my best friend!"_

 _"You never wanted me to become happy on the first place do you?"_

 _"You're lying!"_

 _"Off with her head!"_ (she did not even know where did that come from)

Tyrande however was brought out of musings of her dark thoughts as a horse appeared beside her and before the Priestess could look who it is, a blonde woman with unnatural beauty in elegant Templar armor with the bluest eyes that she had the witness to see jumped off the horse rushing passed Tyrande towards Harrold's body. She looked very young and had a body to envy despite the armor.

Tyrande just opened her mouth to inform the Templar girl that their Grandmaster is dead when her open mouth closed like a clamp and her nostrils flared. The girl had just straddled Harrold and before Tyrande could pull her off, she instantly saw red as the girl kissed the knocked out Templar Grandmaster on the lips.

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 **"So, you're here,"**

"Is that so much to big a surprise?"

 **"You have come too far,"**

"Many would disagree with that statement,"

 **"You do not belong on this world!"**

"Not my choice remember?"

 **"ENOUGH!"** the gravitated old man's voice snapped like a thunder stopping the argument of Harrold and the spectrum figure with a long beard with a hammer on his side. **"I would not have us fighting over one another! Not on this crucial time,"** a figure with no face warped beside the one with the hammer leaning on a staff.

 **"Time is of no consequence to me,"** replied the bearded figure with a shrug to the one who just appeared.

 **"I had to second that,"** a female voice interrupted as a beautiful figure warped like a blue light, her features like that of the Night Elves, but only bearing pupilless eyes. **"But gather the council already. Amon'Thul would want to see our guest one more time,"**

"My lady Elune," bowed Harrold to the Lady of the Moon who gave him a faint smile.

 **"Hello Grandmaster. You've grown tall,"**

"In stature only my lady,"

 **"I had to disagree with you on that. Congratulations by the way for earning the trust of my people and my servant,"**

"Your servant my lady?" blinked Harrold in confusion. Elune's smile widened making her warped projection shiver.

 **"Don't play coy with me Grandmaster. You know who I am talking about,"**

Despite himself Harrold can't help but feel the heat rising on his cheeks as he remembered the passionate night he shared with the gorgeous High Priestess. Until now, he could still remember the beautiful afterglow that he had with her after that drunken night.

"I didn't mean to do it my lady," bowed Harrold once more.

 **"Oh I'm sure you don't,"** the goddess merely chuckled. The two's banter however was interrupted as the lights flashed around showing different deities, spirits and gods looking down over the Templar Grandmaster as the final light flashed beside Elune showing a faceless person wearing white robe and a hood that didn't show any face or skin in fact. On his hand is a gnarled staff with a white gem on it.

"My lord," bowed Harrold in respect as the robed man merely inclined his head at him.

 **"You're here,"** his gravelly voice sounded annoyed and Harrold can't fault him. This is his third time reborn after all.

"Yes, unfortunately I died,"

 **"Not yet,"**

"Huh?"

 **"Are you deaf boy?!"** the robed giant figure's voice rolled like falling grindstones. Harrold promptly ignored the chuckling of the one with the hammer and some of the others. Only Elune scowled at the robed one.

"I thought I'm dead? I've been planted a hole on the gut by that abomination after all,"

 **"Abomination?"** Elune cocked an eyebrow on question at him.

"Yes," nodded the Grandmaster. "A half-human half insect woman entered the battle during the fiinal hours where then we were supposed to win. She err...defeated and killed me. Is that another one of the surprises that you told me about the species I should meet in Azeroth?"

Harrold remained silent as the twenty foot figures around him leaned over one another discussing it among themselves. His face may look bored and impassive, but inside Harrold is burning with curiosity. Last time he had been here, he never saw the immortal beings of power surrounding him right so disturbed. He can't help but have a gut feeling that something right now had been changed judging from the argument that is slowly being broken out of the beings in front of him.

The first time Harrold died, special thanks to Moldywarts AK, he had been transported to a world where there was a train that was supposed to take him to the afterlife. On his second death, which is his sleep. He was met by a faceless figure and asked whether he wanted to experience another life where he could live a different one from the one he had as a hero with only snatches of memory from his previous. Of course he accepted. If there was one thing Harrold wanted to have, its the fact that he wanted a family. On his third death which he got by being the receiver of the pointy end of a Saracen spear, he was once more asked by Amon'Thul, quite snottily to have a chance to save this world. Of course the only reason that Harrold accepted was the fact that the bloody Titan bemoaned loudly how many people will die unless its fate was changed; unknowingly manipulating the Gryffindorish's side of the former wizard. Of course Harrold obviously accepted. The chance to rule with his memories intact and with the people which he believed, deserved to be given a second chance was too good to pass up.

 **"We didn't anticipate this,"** Amon Thul's gravelly voice brought Harrold out of his musings as he looked up at the faceless titan. **"This thing is unaccepted and unexpected. It is clear though that despite the best efforts you and your men might prove that might come from your previous life and snatches of memories from your other one; it still had too much skill to be dealt with...conventionally,"**

Where previous Grandmasters' would have raved and protested by being labeled as weak and an underdog. Harrold had no such pride. If there was one thing he has strove always to be, it was being realistic. He had fought that thing, and no amount of fancy footwork or sword swinging could keep up with strength and speed like that. He had seen it swat Night Elven arrows' like flies.

"I agree," he responded simply. "That is why I have a boon to ask of you,"

 **"Arrogant kid,"** huffed Mr. Hammer but Harrold promptly ignored him.

"I've been on Azeroth long enough. I've seen how beautiful and diverse this world is. My people, had acclimated on it fairly well. However there is one thing we lack that made us inferior to the other species. Something that will made us easy meat for them unless it is addressed. That is what I want to ask all of you today,"

 **"What is it Harry?"** Elune asked in a caring voice. Her pupilless eyes squinting in concern.

Harrold only smiled at the deity of Alleia and Tyrande. No wonder the Night Elves loved her. She practically cares for all of them, even the ones not worshipping her.

"Magic," said Harrold curtly. "We need magic like our own that would take us into the same level as the other races. Unlike them, you know that my people other than a mere handful had no magic on their blood like almost all the races of Azeroth. Sure we might be peaceful now, but I can't have my people unprepared if we ever meet beings whose blood is thick with magic, and at the same time know how to use the most important muscle on the head,"

Harrold watched impassively as the faces of the deities remained neutral, the faces of those who had one not showing any reaction at all. However their eyes tell otherwise. Judging with the way they lighted up and flitting over to the form of Amon Thul's. The Templar Grandmaster can rule enough evidence that they are caught unawares by his request.

 **"I see,"** the hooded deity spoke in his usual graveling tone. **"If you have anything less than noble intentions for asking that boon. I would have struck you down already. As it is though, your request is granted. Magic you shall have and you shall have it in spades. Not the same one that you used before, but the one that we Titans used before in our folly; we have been defeated. The moment you wake up, you shall have the knowledge on how to use it and how to share it with those who wanted to do the same. However let me warn you Grandmaster. Using magic as powerful as this have a price. Before you are sent back I wanted you to decide now,"**

"Of course," nodded Harrold curtly. He of course expected it. If there is one thing that Harrold had learned about magic on his very first life, is that magic always had a price. The stronger it is, the steeper the demand. "What is its price?"

 **"The source of all conduits of magic...Life. Anyone who chose to partook on this gift will lose half of his mortal life. Be warned Grandmaster. This gift is reserved for your people alone. Anyone that is not yours will die,"**

"I see," said Harrold thoughtfully just starting to weigh out the cons and the pros of such a decision when Elune interjected.

 **"I have something that might help you in the future young Templar.** _ **"When the sun turns dark and the snows do come from the North. Listen to the voice of the fallen one that comes. Black wings will bring tidings of the doom that is to bear. Life will meet Death and her cries will be yours to wear. When hope is lost, look to the one who gives the children of forest life. Awaken her, arm her and time for vengeance you will create to end all strife,"**_

Harrold only blinked. If there was one thing he really didn't like. It was prophecies. Heck! His first like had been dominated by one. However this time, he was given the time to be ready, to be even given a chance to forge his destiny with those of the other races. Looking at Elune, he gave the deity a small smile.

"Thank you milady for your words of guidance,"

 **"My pleasure young one. Now I believe that you need to have an answer for Old Amon Thul' here,"** she pointed out to the hooded man who had remained patient waiting for Harrold's reply to his warning and offer of magic.

The Templar Grandmaster only sighed. "You guys do know how to give a hard bargain...Where do I sign up?"

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"May Elune's light guide you on the afterlife brave warrior," Tyrande sprinkled the last of the moondust that she brought with her at the cross buried on the ground with the last of the Templars who had fallen.

Straightening up, the Priestess of the Moon looked at the grim and tired faces of both the Legion and the remaining Knights. One look is all the Priestess needed to know that the battle have left a terrible toll on the Terrans. Sixty of the Legionnaires have lost their lives while another hundred have been wounded. Out of those hundred, twenty will never be able to wield the sword again. Out of the hundred knights only eighteen have been killed while almost half were wounded. The brave Templars and Free Knights have fought tooth and nail so that Harrold and Tyrande could duel the abomination without any interference from the Green men.

For some reason. It seems that fate had played a joke and Tyrande never expected it, but she was now the de facto leader of the remainder of the expedition group. Fred and George were among the critically wounded using both armor and body to prevent the green men from breaking through their lines after the Templar charge. Oswald the Fat was also gone leaving both the knights and the Legionnaires leaderless. It took Tyrande a full minute to calm herself when she was informed about it; lest she decided to go to where Harrold was lain by the pretty blonde girl and slap him until he wakes up.

The sound of crunching heavy boots brought Tyrande out of her musings as she lifted her head up from the field of tombs to the sight of the temporary representative of the Templar Order and the Legion.

"My lady," he bowed when he saw her looking up at him before speaking again. "Our visitors have arrived,"

"Thank you Sir Arthur," sighed Tyrande pulling herself up from the crouching position she is at as she surveyed the dead once more before sighing again. "Let's go,"

Leaving behind the field of the dead, Tyrande hurriedly wiped the dirt and dust from her skin and armor as she went to the entrance of the makeshift camp they made before; which is currently being de-camped. The decision whether they stay or move on with their mission was still under debate, but Tyrande had given th order simply so that the soldiers would have something to do instead of thinking about their fallen friends and comrades.

"Tyra!" the familiar voice of Arko' met Tyrande almost a quarter way through as the younger elf fall in step beside her. Immediately two Sentinels ghosted beside her without question and Tyrande didn't bother to ask what they are doing since they are here as her guard. However she frowned as she remembered the assignment she assigned her young protege.

"Arko, I thought I told you to meet our new...friends and tell us who we are," said the Priestess staring at the Sentinel-in-Training Kaldorei who merely shrugged her inquiries.

"They already know who we are Tyra. And also the Terrans. That pretty blonde girl asked me to leave and find you while she met our guests,"

"I see," Tyrande nodded in affirmation, but inside she was fuming. The urge to rip the hair of that blonde girl still haven't abated with a day and half already passing after she kissed Harrold's knocked out form. "We'll better go and meet our friends then,"

"Do we really need to make friends with them Tyra?" asked Arko' blinking with owlish big eyes.

"Unfortunately," Tyrande grunted in response. "We can't afford to have another enemy after the battle we just had. In fact, I believe it would help if we get to know them. They might have information about the people we are searching for the first place,"

The rest of the trip remained in relative silence. Tyrande would be lying if she admitted that she isn't nervous. Last time her race met another's, their entire way of life have been turned upside down. Sure it had been for the better, but the fact still remains the same that changes occured. Changes that should not have had happened if the Long Vigil have not been interrupted.

The small group soon arrived at the gate and Tyrande is met by five people staring curiously at her. Four of them are obviously from the group that arrived late to aid the knights. One is old and balding with specks of gray on the side of his head. He is wearing a green doublet with silver trimmings on its side. On his head is a gold band with a single sapphire jewel on it. Despite his age though, one could attest that this man is not someone whose bad side you don't want to see. Piercing violet irises that held a stern look adorned his eyes. One that is familiar with all warriors.

"Greetings Priestess Tyrande," nodded the old man, his voice strong and healthy despite the obvious age. She didn't miss the fact that he didn't bow. "I am Chieftain Hama of the Mark and keeper of the Northern lands East of Stone Talon. This is my son Eorl," he indicated to a younger version of him who smiled at them. He had his father's looks obviously and none of the gruffness yet. He is tall and lanky but retained the warriors' look. At his side is an ash spear and he is wearing simply robes over the leather armor he had. Oh how many hearts he would break one day, thought Tyrande to herself as Hama continued on the introductions.

"And my daughter Heba," he gestured to the only woman on their group. Unlike his son. The girl didn't look like him at all. Her face is beautiful and petite, none of the angular beauty like the Night Elves had but more round. She is wearing a headdress that resembled that of oxen's horns that had been polished silver with gems dangling on its ends. Painted teardrops of black fell from her eyes. Her dress is a forming body suit that left nothing for the imagination highlighting her curves and body. A skirt of leather that cut off on both side of the legs hang from her hips making her even look more enticing. The glaive at her side is the only indication that this girl is every inch a warrior. Tyrande would bet that if she had been born a Night Elf, she would have walked limping every day from the Moon Wells during the Long Vigil.

Both children had the violet irises of their father and despite how alike they are with the Terrans, Tyrande could never see the similarities between the two thanks to those freaky eyes. The two at Hama's back are obviously his guard judging from the fact that they are wearing helmets and did not release their grips from the ash spears that they had.

"We have been expecting you Priestess Tyrande,"

Of course those words immediately sent alarm bells into Tyrande's psyche.

"How did you know who I am? And what I am?" she can't help but blurt out immediately after Hama's words. She immediately racked her brain. She was pretty sure that none of her people have ventured southward past Ashenvale. Her kind was secretive until the Terrans forced them out a little. The border guards would have reported to her if any Kaldorei had passed the borders. However seeing that this human knew about her and her people; and even expected her herself. That could only lead to one conclusion.

The old chieftain merely chuckled at her question. "Two groups of your people passed here a few moons ago. The first one was a male with covered eyes traveling with five humans armored like the ones you have here. One of their number..," he looked at the pretty blonde human hovering over her Harrold on a litter protectively while holding his hand. The sight nearly made Tyrande's nose fume. It took a lot of effort on her part to listen again to what Hama is saying. "...many were sick and she pitied us, so she stayed. Mr. Blind with them have told me that sooner or later you will also be passing this village looking for him. At least that's what I'm told to expect,"

"What do you mean?" Tyrande asked the old chieftain though already she had an inkling already at what he is going to say.

"Two moons after and his company passed. A large group of your kind came knocking on our doorstep. They were looking for the blind one,"

"Maieve? She's alive?"

"So you know her?" the chieftain rose an eyebrow in question.

"Yes," nodded Tyrande. "She's Illidan's jailor for centuries. He escaped and she had set out looking for him,"

"I see," nodded the chieftain thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "I have bad news after bad news for you Priestess. And your blind friend also left a message for you,"

"What is it?"

However it was the blonde beautiful woman that stepped in without warning that answered Tyrande's question. "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss such things Priestess of the Moon,"

"And who are you?" the effort to keep a civil tone at the girl proved too much for the Priestess of Elune and instead of a snarl. What came out is a sneer.

She only smiled brightly in a way that made Tyrande insecure despite all of her vanity.

"I'm Fleur Isabelle Delacour. Templar, Master Tracker, Healer and Lover of Harrold James Potter,"

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The ritual stone glowed. The figure in beautiful white robes slowly approached the stone knowing that once she activated it. There would be no going back. She would go against everything that her race had stood up against. But still, if she do not do this, she would lose him and thinking about it practically made her fragile heart quail in fear and panic.

Clutching with one hand the vial filled with green. She lifted a slender hand adorned by the braces of the Temple of Elune and touched the runestone. She steeled her heart as it turned blue as the power of the Arcane is activated and the magic on her blood practically sang.

Taking a deep breath, she began to chant the words of power. She never noticed the green eyes filled with Fel that had kept an eye on her ever since she had laid to Tyrande everything on that pool.

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 **Hello beauties. Im sorry if I havent updated in a while. Slow support for the story have put me down in a dampener mood. Someone told me it sucks. And I still believe it. Anyway one of the main reasons though is I have played Legacy of the Void. Very Nice game. Sorry for that.**

 **Please review and fav. thanks.**

 **My life for Aiur! En Tarro Artanis readers!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

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 _Alone..._

 _It is said that those of our kind suffer,_

 _separated from the glory of the Light._

 _But we are never truly alone._

 _For our warrior hearts are bound by honor, tradition._

 _Battle is waged in the name of the many._

 _The brave few who from generation to generation earned the mantle of:_

 _Dark Templar!_

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Looking up from where she rides Nymeria, Tyrande slowly relaxed her tense muscles as she finally saw the said protected town of Hama. It is covered in a wooden wall and inside you could see hundreds of shanty houses with the black figures of men and women milling outside. Beside the town where the wall stretched upward is a large brown hall atop on a hill. "Eseld" the chieftain called it. Or in their words it means "Hall". It doesn't look great compare to the Elven houses and Tyrande found her heart sinking that she and her sisters had to duke it out on the flimsy homes of these humans. At least the Terrans know how to make places comfortable unlike these.

She and the rest of the Alliance have accepted the female Templar's words without question. Apparently the Delacour girl was one of the "respected" officers that the knights know about and, with Tyrande's leadership precarious at the moment, she agreed with Hama's proposition to shelter them. The bay as defensible as it was, was open at all sides and an attack like the one they had just faced would be too cost prohibitive.

She had barely more than four hundred soldiers left now. Tyrande had sent home most of the wounded and the dead that they recovered on the battlefield back to Vroengard with the _Saint Elizabeth_ leaving the _Vigilant_ and the _Dauntless_ as their remaining ships. Said ships are now following them through the coasts West of Stone Talon Peak.

"Halt!" shouted Hama as they neared the wooden gates of the village stopping them as he and his guards and children rode to the gates to convince the guards to let them in and that they pose no danger to the people.

"My lady," Arko stepped in beside Nymeria, her hair dusty and filled with sand. "Are you really sure that we can trust these humans?" asked the younger elf.

"It's not my call to make," Tyrande merely grunted throwing a glare at the Delacour girl who is chatting rapidly with the other knights who seemed delighted at having her back. With her riding is Harrold strapped on linens that held the unconscious Templar Grandmaster glued on her lithe body. When she explained that sort of travel to Tyrande, the Night Elven Priestess nearly had a migraine in either jealousy or outrage.

"Isn't she one of the expedition members we are looking for?" asked her student noticing her dirty looks shot at the Terran woman.

"Yes,"

"Haven't we questioned her yet about what happened to them and where her companions are?" pointed out Arko'.

"Not yet," said Tyrande simply. "But if my hunch is right, she had no idea where her companions are. She had volunteered to stay on this place to help out the locals on their local sickness and they left her,"

"Still, it won't hurt to ask. We could at least pick up clues about where they went," shrugged Arko'Narin.

"I agree," Tyrande merely nodded at the truth on her protege's words. "But we'll discuss it later. Here they come,"

The two Night Elves inclined their heads at the direction of Eorl who are riding towards them, reining his horse in just right in front of them and inclined his head in respect.

"My ladies. My father bids you ride with him at the front," said the young man throwing an appreciative glance at Arko's exposed body who went pink at the stare.

Tyrande merely glared at the young man before waving him off. Once sure that he isn't within hearing distance. The Priestess of Elune merely raised a questioning eyebrow at her student who if possible went even red.

"Go find squire Creevy Arko' and bring him here. Also inform the Terrans that we are finally here. And for whatever reason, don't leave squire Creevy's side,"

"Can't I just come with you?" asked the younger elf.

"No," Tyrande shook her head. "I trust these Horse-Lords as far as I can throw them. And I trust that Delacour girl even less. If not for the fact that the Knights vouched for her, I would have planted an arrow on her already,"

"Are you sure that the reason you hate her is rather because she is the dear Grandmaster's lover Tyra?" giggled Arko' mischievously making Tyrande glare at her ignoring the the heat rising to her cheeks at the implication and the truth behind it.

"Pull your head out of the gutter Arko' and get moving," she commanded making the purple skinned Kaldorei merely roll her eye at her.

"You're no fun at all Tyra,"

"Arko',"

"Alright, alright I'm going," the younger elf merely giggled once more before walking off back at the column yelling loudly for the Grandmaster's squire.

Placing a hand on her face in exasperation. Tyrande let off a sigh to compose herself before nudging Nymeria forward to the five riders who are waiting for her at the gate. She could hear her guards following her immediately and Tyrande didn't need to look to know that they have stepped up behind her.

"Is there a problem my lady?"asked Hama once he managed to rein his horse not to panic at the presence of the cat that Tyrande rode which is licking its chops.

"Nothing chieftain," Tyrande simply waved off before wincing as she heard a male's scream of pain and wails from the column. She didn't need to look to know that Arko' and the Creevey boy had gotten themselves on a spat again. "Just dealing with a nuisance of my student and her crush,"

The chieftain of the Mark merely stared at the column where the smallest of the Kaldorei are dragging a young man in half armor by his ear towards the front.

"I see. Shall we proceed then my lady?"

"I believe so," Tyrande simply replied ignoring the appreciative looks that Eorl and Hama's guards are shooting at her Sentinels. For once Tyrande was glad that she was wearing her Priestess robes which covered a lot of her body than the Sentinel armor which her guards were wearing.

"Very well," nodded the chieftain before stopping. "And before I forgot. My lady Priestess. Welcome to Eseld. Home of the Horse-Lords,"

And the gate opened.

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"What do you mean he's still alive?!" Pablo Reed tried not to shriek like a little girl as he glared at the insectoid woman lounging on his throne.

He didn't believe it. She had promised him the Templar Grandmaster's head and she renegaded on that promise. He had sent nearly half of his entire fighting force with her as a distraction so that she can fulfill her promise and all he got to show for it was a lot of dead bodies and a few dozen casualties of the Templar forces. Sure she had the Grandmaster wounded severely and it would had not been impossible for her to finish him off but she didn't.

"Exactly what I said," the insectoid woman replied boredly as if a thousand and eight hundred centaurs and raiders have not just been sacrificed for her fight.

"You promised me his head!" demanded Pablo keeping his wits not to draw his scimitar and run the monster of a bitch through with it.

"And I will. But I didn't promise when did I?" she merely looked at him in victory.

Growling, Pablo signaled for his guards at his side to take her down. The five barely got two steps forward when they suddenly gurgled in pain and fell down with holes on their body from the lightning reflexes of the monster in front of him.

"You dare-," Pablo started but suddenly stopped as he found himself held up high in the air by some unknown force as the woman pointed her clawed hand at him.

"Not very bright are you?" she simply snarked still holding him up. "Do not forget who put you on this place and whom do you owe all your power!" she then pointed her finger down and Pablo tried not to scream in pain as he landed on his feet and hear it crack.

"I will deal with the nuisance of the Templar you are concerned with," the insectoid woman simply spoke. "You should focus more on bringing down these Horse-Lords. Remember Reed! You have a week more to do it before I find someone else who will,"

"Of course," nodded the former smuggler gritting his teeth as he pulled himself up with the help of his guards.

"Very good. Now leave!" the monster bitch waved of and Pablo needed no more prompting as he left the house limping.

Gods he hated that monster. If he didn't need her to get rid of the Grandmaster, he would have openly rebelled already. Still, he had a deadline to keep. These remaining Horse-Lords of the North had been a nuisance for far too long. It's time that its leaders suffer the same fate as the other Horse-Lords he brought under his heel. Naruud has given him a week to bring them all down.

He'll do it in two days. But as for now, Pablo went down to the Hall's dungeons taking a key to a room that is reserved only for him to open. Putting the key unto the lock, he entered inside and smiled as a terrified whimper met his hears.

"Please, have mercy," begged a feminine voice that he had broken many moons ago.

Approaching the chained form into the wall of the beautiful Night Elf that had come barging on the South before. Pablo placed a gentle kiss on her beautiful lips ignoring her whimpers as his hands went to explore her body.

"Don't worry Warden. You and I are going to have a lot of fun tonight,"

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"You look beautiful my lady,"

"That's what I'm afraid of,"

Tyrande sighed tiredly at the comment of the helper that Hama had sent to her to help her "freshen up" for the welcome feast as she finished placing a single leaf ornamental at her hair. Being a Kaldorei, beauty is normally not that big of a problem for her race. Many of the females of her kind knew this like her. That's the reason why marriage and life bonding is not favored on their culture. Males are tempted one way or another by another female and in order to avoid infighting on their society, the taking of mates is viewed then as only temporary.

Not that its fair in Tyrande's opinion. Deep in her heart she yearned for someone to be her mate for a lifetime. Its not fair for females to be simply discarded once the males got tired of her and sought for another.

She isn't dumb, she knew that she was one of the most beautiful that the Kaldorei people had to offer in terms of beauty. Even Alleia admitted that she felt inferior compared to Tyrande. She had her own fair share of suitors when the males were around and a number also of females ever since the Long Vigil started. That's the reason why she kept Arko' close. Many thought that they young elf was used as her bed warmer and it lessened a great deal of pursuers in her case. Thankfully Arko' obliged at her pleas.

"My lady, we need to go. Chieftain Hama and the others are waiting," spoke the servant, waking the beautiful Priestess from her thoughts.

"Of course, carry on," Tyrande simply answered as she pulled herself together checking herself once more at the mirror.

They have arrived here merely hours before at Eseld, the town city of the Mark. She and the other ranking officers have then been offered a feast by the chieftain and protocol somehow dictates that she at least attend as a courtesy. Normally Tyrande wanted nothing more than a bed to lay her head in. The events this early morning still haunt her, Harrold's incapacitation and the loss of life of the Alliance. She was just thankful that none of her Sentinels have been killed. Still, seeing all those dead Terrans brought a somber mood for the current leader of the expedition.

Tidying the hems of her Priestess robes' Tyrande walked out of her room freshened up and beautified as best as she could be. Normally Tyrande would never bother even putting any effort on her self since her natural beauty brought her merit enough. However seeing that "harlot" kissing her Harrold have awakened a monster of vanity inside the Priestess and she once and for all would want to prove that she deserved Harrold more if beauty was the battle ground. She knew she had to get her game up. That Delacour girl practically made the heavy Templar armor look even good.

 _"Harrold's lover! Harrold's lover!"_ her voice repeated on her head and Tyrande tried not to grit her teeth as it repeated again and again on her head.

Following the human servant girl which were throwing her dirty looks of envy down the wooden staircase, the Priestess of the Moon isn't surprised seeing five of her Sentinels dressed up in other than their armor waiting for her downstairs. Unlike her who is wearing the formal Priestess robes along with the gems and the bands that come with it, her Sentinels simply wore the dresses that they brought with them.

A combination of binded reeds and leaves, only Kaldorei had the art to create something beautiful like a dress from the left over of nature. Her Sentinels in human view look stunning. Of course based on Kaldorei culture, the dresses are absolutely revealing. The dress are composed of a long skirt in a mixture of orange and green that came from the reeds of Darkshore that the Sentinels there collected. At first look, it did not even resemble the raw material from which it came from. While the lower part of the dress is conservative, the upper part can only be classified in Templar standards as absolutely vurgal.

Chest bindings that hide the assets of her people made from leaves are the largest covering there is that did no justice to their chests. The rest are blank showing the lithe bodies of the Night Elves. A criss-cross pattern of interwoven leaves and branches went down their navel holding the skirt but in the meantime showing their toned waists. Greaves on arms also made of leaves finish their attire. There are no accessories present on them. With the color of their skin of different shades from violet to dark purple, Tyrande can't help but think how fitting their dresses are to her people's nature.

The real reason why her Sentinels brought these dresses was to entice some of the Terrans on their journey in case they made camp. Almost all of the Sentinels that came with her are un-mated and many were hoping that they'll find the proper male that they were hoping for within the numbers of the knights.

A small smile graced Tyrande's face as she saw Arko' looking very uncomfortable on her own dress. Being Tyrande's student and follower, the younger Night Elf had been given a backless white dress like that of the Priestesses but instead had no ornaments on it. It also showed her quite developing breasts at the side and Tyrande can't help but muse at how a looker her student will look once she reached her majority.

"Arko," Tyrande gently called; catching her guard for tonight's attention as she descended along the stairs with the servant who immediately scurried off inside the hall, probably to tell them that they are here.

"My lady," bowed the Sentinels in acknowledgement while Arko'Narin merely called her by her pet name.

"Are you ready?" asked the Priestess as she interwove her arms to her younger companion.

"I don't look bad do I?" her student fidgeted picking with her fingers the edge of her skirt which looked identical to Tyrande minus the moonstones.

"Of course not. You look beautiful," supported the Priestess. "I bet you're going to turn many heads tonight,"

To her credit, Arko' Narin merely blushed pink on her purple skin as she rearranged with her free hand the top of her dress to hide the sides of her quite developing chest. "I don't know Tyra. What will I do if one of them talked to me? I've never talked to a male before even the Terrans minus Grandmaster Harrold and Colin,"

"So its Colin now is it?" Tyrande waggled her eyebrows playfully at her student who if even possible, blushed even more as she looked down on the ground. Tyrande just chuckled as she pulled her protege's arms playfully. "Just be your charming self Arko'. Remember, they may be males but it doesn't merit anything that you need to change your personality for them,"

"Yes Tyra," nodded the young elf.

"Good. And if any of them touch you here," this time Tyrande nudged Arko's developing chest with her elbows which earned an indignant yelp from the younger Kaldorei and many laughs from the other Sentinels as she tried to cover herself. "Don't forget to put a slap on their face or a kick between their legs,"

"Yes Tyra," replied the flustered elf earning her even more laughs from their companions.

"Aww if only you have joined us on the Moon Wells Arko'," giggled one of the Sentinels. "Once we are done with this trip, we really need to get that innocence of yours out. Trust me, you'll enjoy it...a lot,"

"Maliah!" chided another Sentinel throwing a playful swat at the one who just spoke. "Stop teasing 's as red as a cherry already. Besides we don't need to expose her to your expertise. I'm pretty sure Priestess Tyrande here have already planned her education from here on out. Besides, her innocence made her look terribly cute,"

Tyrande just smiled as her student practically light up like a beacon as the Sentinels bantered. As much as disturbed as Arko' is though, Tyrande knew that she had to expose her soon. Her race are strong, proud but also a bit sexual in nature. That's the reason why female to female relationships are not frowned upon. She wondered who could mate with Arko' temporarily though. Maybe she could ask Shandris a favor. The Sentinel general is pretty enough and had enough experience not to scare the young Kaldorei. That is if she had not found a mate among the Terrans yet.

Tyrande's musings about her student's love life is cut short though when a messenger suddenly appeared who looked stunned for a second seeing all of the and Tyrande would have sworn his nose bled before he wiped it and gestured for her to follow him.

"Well, I guess this is it. Come on girls. Time to meet the party," smiled Tyrande nearly dragging a reluctant Arko' behind her followed by the rest of her Sentinels.

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Colin fidgeted as he rearranged his doublet for the hundredth time. Wearing the ceremonial leathers of the Templar that he had only seen being worn by his mentor made the young squire feel like a peacock as he stood there in front of everyone. For the last timre he wished that the Priestess chose someone other than him to represent the Order. He still remembered how blunt the Priestess is on choosing him.

 _Colin tiredly sat with the rest of the Templars nursing his bruised ear. He had just endured countless teasing from the older knights thanks to the playful attitude that Arko'Narin had saved only for him. Not that he enjoyed it for he does. Despite not being a full-fledged Sentinel, Arko' is very beautiful and against his moral code, Colin enjoyed the young Kaldorei's attention on him._

 _The squire however was brought out of his musings when a messenger arrived looking for him. He didn't need to see the leather attires that he is wearing to know that he belonged to these Horse-Lords._

 _"I'm looking for a...," he looked at a pierce of paper. "...squire Creevey," he even pronounced his name wrongly._

 _Ignoring the sniggers from his fellow knights, Colin stood up. "I am squire Colin Creevey. What can I do for you good man?"_

 _"I've brought a message from the Priestess for you," stated the messenger approaching him and thrusting a small piece of rolled paper before walking out without a word to him or the other knights._

 _Quite flustered by the attitude, Colin rolled the paper and his heart sank as he saw the words there written by that Night Elf they fought before._

 _"You're going to represent the Templar tonight. Be ready for the feast,"_

Colin sighed as he adjusted again the stuffy attire that he is wearing. It is no worse looking for wear. The doublet's color is of blue and violet, with the Templar insignia at the left breast. A small cape of green with silver that went down on his left shoulder only finished the attire's touching.

Of course being the squire of the Grandmaster, and probably one of the greatest in his and most of the Templars' opinion. He is expected to do great things one day. And he also expected it of course. Harrold is a paragon of example for them from the day he became a Templar to the last when all of them died. Colin in fact is one day also expected to be a Grandmaster himself. However sitting here now all pimp and proper made colin feel terribly conscious of himself.

The look that the servant girls kept throwing at him are indication enough for him to know that the attire is no way bad. However a part of him remembered some sort of memory from his first life that showed something about clothes that looked good, but at the same time not cause that much of a fuss in attire.

Around him can only be the household of Chieftain Hama. He deduced that with the way they are at ease with the Hall. All of them are wearing different attires that cannot compare to the doublet and the pomp that he and his two bodyguards are wearing. In fact if he is honest with himself, Colin felt that he looked even better than the Chieftain.

The young Templar-in-Training was however brought out of his musings as the large door of the Hall opened and the herald of the Hall entered making every eye look into him.

"May I present the Priestess Tyrande of the Kaldorei and her retinue!" proclaimed the crier loudly as he then stepped aside to let the ladies enter.

Colin's breath hitched as he saw the Night Elves enter. Of course they are always beautiful, Colin had been quite used to the idea. However seeing them now made "little Colin" on his legs stand up in attention.

They looked terribly beautiful and enticing. Their clothes covered much than their armor however it was like it was designed to tease. Showing a lot but also hiding a lot. For a moment Colin can't help but compare the Night Elves to a hook and they, the fish. Always luring them in, but never be allowed to tase the sweet taste of victory.

Looking around, Colin saw that he was not the only one affected, nearly everyone was bothered by the appearance of the Elves. A lot of them in fact, especially those that belonged to the Mark are practically undressing the allies of the Terrans.

Everyone remained silent as the Night Elves find seats on the long tables of the Hall while Tyrande joined the High Table where he and the Chieftain was seated. Colin however nearly jumped out of his doublet as a familiar voice sounded eerily close beside him.

"Colin," Arko'Narin's voice practically chimed sending bells of nervousness and alarm inside the squire's head.

Trying not to gurgle, Colin forced his head to crane at the side to the sight of a very beautiful Arko'Narin in a dress. For a second, the Templar in training found his mind blacking out. Only when common sense kicked in that he was about to drool openly did Colin got a grip and he inclined his head at the shy elf who didn't fail to notice his temporary lack of expression.

"Are you alright Colin?" she blinked with those eyes owlishly.

"Of course, of course my lady," nodded the young squire keeping his eyes at her head and not at her chest which is practically drawing him in like an angler.

"May I sit here?" she inquired hopefully at the empty seat beside him and Colin tried not to cry as she sat before he can even say "yes" or "no".

He just prayed that he would be able to keep his composure throughout the feast without being slapped by the enticing creature beside him.

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The feast can only be labeled in Tyrande's opinion as a success. Hama gave an inspiring speech of welcome before the feast started. Despite the choice of food (Tyrande never understood the fascination of humans with meat. Even the Terrrans loved meat) on the table. Tyrande thought everything had gone rather well. There are a couple of things she learned though thanks to the feast.

First and foremost was the fact of how much different were the Terrans compared to the Mark. Now Tyrande realized how much she had taken for granted the respect and self-control Harrold and his people had compared with the other humans when it comes to them.

More than one Kaldorei on the lower tables have been groped on the ass or the chest. That of course resulted to a lot of slaps and red marks on the faces of the men who attended. It even got rowdier and rowdier as the feast progressed and more ale are distributed. A lot of humans with bruised ego would be waking tomorrow as many of them on their pride tried to outdrink her Sentinels in an effort to get them drunk and bed them. Being centuries, and some millennia old, the Night Elves of course can hold their heads and bellies better than any of the men of the Mark.

Of course when the dancing came, every last Kaldorei in the room are already disgusted by the actions of the men towards them as they nearly trampled one another to ask the hand of any available elf to dance with them. The poor three Templars who had been elected to attend the feast got a landslide of Kaldorei women nearly sticking to them in the end of the night as the realization came to her Sentinels that they were better off with the Templar than any of these human males. Even the poor squire of Harrold had not been spared, and the young man were currently being fanned by a very amused Arko' as he sat at the sidelines. He had gotten an overload after his third dance when a very enthusiastic Sentinel practically crushed his head to her bosom.

Of course in the end, a lot of men of the Mark will have a bad headache tomorrow and broken hearts, including that of the prince.

Tyrande herself and Arko' are spared by the advances of the men of the Mark. Being at the High Table was intimidating enough. Not to mention that Tyrande wore her most poker and snobbish face that practically sent wishers and lovesick males running at the opposite direction. As for Arko', well Tyrande was glad that she had assigned her young protege to stick with Colin. The young boy thankfully had good perceptions of the trouble his seatmate will have the moment he turned his bed, had practically lavished her with all his attention much to her delight on keeping him dangling.

Now however with the merrymaking and the feast done, Tyrande found herself sitting at the inner council room of Hama with the two Templar males who had attended the feast to represent the Order as her guard.

The door opened and she remained silent as the chieftain with her daughter sat opposite her handing her a letter. She did not need to look at the Seal of the Warden on it to know that it was left behind for her by Maieve.

"She left this knowing that you would pass sooner or later," the chieftain spoke sipping a little on his wine. "Very proud that woman was,"

"I know," Tyrande simply replied breaking the wax seal as she opened the letter to read its contents.

 _"My lady. I know that you would follow sooner or later knowing that it concerns Illidan. Forgive me my lady that me and my Watchers have set out in pursuit without us asking for any sort of permission on leaving the Vault from the council. I had to get back my charge no matter the cost. I have tracked him down south of Eseld at the farthest point of Stonepeak Talon. There my scouts tell me that he had passed on two mountains with twin pikes. I'm heading out there. If you're reading this. I'll be leaving a sizeable force there once we managed to sniff out his tracks. Be wary of his companions. They have powerful magic that we do not know of,"_

Tyrande sighed as she finished reading the letter. It would be very like Maieve to hunt her prey to the very ends of Azeroth if she had to.

"So she told you where she is heading?" Hama simply asked once he noticed that Tyrande had finished reading the letter.

"She didn't tell you?"

"No, she and her soldiers only stopped here for supplies. Knocked out my guards when they try to get her to come out of that fancy armor of hers," chuckled Hama.

"To be expected of course," Tyrande replied blandly knowing how alluring Maieve's voice is. "She mentioned something about twin pike on her letter. Do you know something about that?"

Tyrande's blue eyes narrowed as she saw the chieftain flinch at what she mentioned alongside her daughter. And if she's reading it right, a lot of fear suddenly filled those old eyes.

"Are you sure she mentioned twin peaks?" asked the chieftain.

"Yes,"

If it is possible, the old man suddenly looked like he had aged ten more years as he leaned on his chair. "Then she's already dead," he simply spoke.

Tyrande's eyes only narrowed further. "What makes you say that?" Tyrande may have no love for the warden who had a stick up her ass for rules and stuff like that. But she is a Night Elf and as it is, one of her people.

He merely caught her gaze unflinchingly. "I won't lie to you Priestess. Things here at the Mark are bad. Once we have four halls that ranged from the North, South, East and West. Each governed by their own Chieftains. We Horse-Lords have lived on this region for generations until the Warlock came,"

"Warlock?" Tyrande can't help but blurt out in question.

The chieftain's nod affirmed it. "Yes, a being of cunning and cruelty with a monster of a woman beside him. He united all the raiders, poachers and thieves under one banner and turned them to his own mindless drones and bringing even more monsters, half-human half-horse abominations from the Barrens in herds that eat of human flesh and drink of human blood. With his hordes, he invaded the Mark burning everything but us here on the North where most of the Riders have gathered. He had captured Thirskmead Hall, the Southern capital and turned that city into his own camp where his monsters gathered. You say your Warden went to the Twin Peaks. The only way towards it is to pass Thirskmead Hall and there's no way her little band could have gotten passed the Warlock's armies,"

Ignoring the sour feeling on her stomach that tells her that Maieve and her Watchers reached a sticky end, Tyrande simply spoke.

"I don't believe that,"

Hama only snorted in derision. "Believe what you will lassie. But the fact remains, your friends are dead already if they went there,"

"I would not believe that my people have been killed unless I see it with my own two eyes," Tyrande replied stubbornly. "Maieve's one of the best and level headed leaders. She would not be easily caught by mere humans,"

"The Warlock's guardian is no mere human," Hama replied glumly. "I've seen it laid waste to sixty of my best riders without breaking a sweat. It had powers that can throw even the stoutest of my men,"

"Be it as it may Chieftain. But I would still want confirmation of my people's fate,"

"I guess you plan to go down there," Hama stated looking at her.

"Yes," nodded Tyrande. "I'll be taking three of my Sentinels with me. Don't worry about us chieftain. If I see your Warlock along the way. I'll make sure to plant a couple of arrows on him,"

"Judging from your tone Priestess, I believe I cannot change your mind," the old man spoke ina resigned tone. "My daughter Heba will ride with you along the way. With her you'll have upper chances to sneak around. As for the rest of your people. They're welcome here as long as they don't cause any trouble,"

"Thank you Chieftain," Tyrande nodded in appreciation.

"Just remember Priestess. Whatever you do. Don't underestimate the Warlock," Hama said in a warning tone. "Three chieftains learned that the hard way,"

"Don't worry Chieftain. I never do," Tyrade simply replied in a feral smile.

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Fleur sighed as she washed Harrold's sleeping form on the head. She had lied a bit about being Harrold's lover to that Kaldorei. She had been given the short version of the Templar Knights that had not attended the feast of what happened after they left and the temporary Alliance established by Harrold to the Kaldorei, forming an Alliance.

However she could practically sense the attraction rolling in waves from that Night Elf that she had seen hovering over Harrold despite badly wounded. Of course Fleur being who she was, was incensed immediately.

In her previous life, Fleur Isabelle Delacour had been nothing but a doll of the French Kingdom, a daughter of a rich magistrate. She is the most sought girl, that even the crown prince have asked her hand for marriage. She hated her life. She yearned for adventure instead of being stuck like a jewel raised to be sold to the highest bidder. So when the call of crusade came, Fleur seized the opportunity and ran off to Jerusalem.

Her luck didn't hold. Her ship was wrecked on the shores of Jerusalem and she barely made it to the shores only to be set upon by a couple of Saracen scouts. There she would have met a sticky end after the men undressed her weakened form planning to rape her and send her to the nearest brothel when she was saved by Harrold and his Templars who were passing by.

Fleur never saw a more beautiful person then. She had fallen for an instant for the Grandmaster and somewhere on the back of her mind, she believed she knew him already. She followed them on Jerusalem where they dropped her off, joined the Templars and soon became one of its best healers with magic at her disposal. She had been his attendant for so long she could remember and had even been a pillow for him in the cold nights of Jerusalem in the hopes that he would notice her affections and return them.

For all her beauty, Fleur had men practically throwing themselves at her. Yet for some reason, she could not charm the man of her dreams no matter how hard she tried. Still, there's no way she would allow that Kaldorei woman get her prize. She matched her in beauty alone. Fleur had to get her game on to keep her investment in place.

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 **Yah! Ive finished Legacy of the Void so Im starting to write again. Haha Anyway please review and fave.**

 **-Everyone keeps asking when is the timeline in my story. Technically Ive planned that my timeline is during the 2nd war against the Orcs and the humans. However now that Im thinking about it. I plan to put it before the Orcs went to Azeroth. Its still tentative and under debate in my head.**

 **-Sorry no Harrold at this chapter. Its supposed to be focused on Tyrande until next chapter.**

 **-The story is still at prologue level. No excitement yet hihihi**

 **-Hope ya like Fleur. And for the last time. This is not a harem story.**

 **En Tarro Tassadar!**

 **En Tarro Zeratul!**

 **En Tarro Adun!**

 **En Tarro Artanis!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

 _.._

 _.._

 _.._

 _Alone..._

 _It is said that those of our kind suffer,_

 _separated from the glory of the Light._

 _But we are never truly alone._

 _For our warrior hearts are bound by honor, tradition._

 _Battle is waged in the name of the many._

 _The brave few who from generation to generation earned the mantle of:_

 _Dark Templar!_

 _.._

 _.._

 _.._

The sound of horse hooves beat heavily on the grassy plain and if one would look from afar, he would see four riders riding off on the empty grasslands heading towards the mountains of the South.

Tyrande remained silent as she followed the Chieftain's daughter. She had no idea how in the world does the young human girl know where is where on this empty plains. Despite herself, the Night Elf Priestess can't help but give a grudging respect for the humans of the Mark. The Riddermark is practically a desert disguised as a plain. Being used to trees, plants and the dark eaves of the forest, Tyrande completely out of place at her new setting. Everywhere she stared is a long stretch of plains with no end in sight without even a tree to break the monotone except an endless sea of grass. One could easily be lost in here even if you know the direction you are going. Not to mention knowing where to look for water. Tyrande herself felt lost the first two hours of their journey already yet their guide seems to have no problem knowing which way she wanted to go.

Realizations came to Tyrande as she spent her time riding in silence though. The very first is how fitting the term "Horse-Lords" is for these humans. The brief time she had at Eseld had been proof enough for the Elven Priestess to know that they loved their horses next to their kin. One would have thought as if the horses could talk back with the way the riders of the Mark would whisper things to them. Tyrande understood that her kind could communicate with animals in some sense thanks to their nature. However she never saw any kind of species before had something that can match their bond with other beings until now.

The Elven Priestess just sighed. Things have been progressing faster than she can get grips with these past few months. Being immortal and living through millenia, Tyrande and her people usually take things in stride taking great time in putting things on consideration and understanding them before acting. However ever since the arrival of the Templars. Everything it seemed prove too fast. Five to six months were usually a blink of an eye on the life of a Kaldorei, but for Tyrande, it seems the past months felt long with all the activities thanks to the ruckus caused on their lives by the Templars.

Tyrande would have it no other way though and she knew her sisters felt the same. Ever since the Long Vigil, she and her sisters had the feeling of monotones through the ages. Life had been a steady come and go for them, the sun rising and falling without even them noticing it sometimes. A lack of sense and purpose had seeped on their bones and though Tyrande had a little excitement thanks to her responsibility over Arko'; she still felt that kind of feeling. The arrival of the Templars broke that monotone and Tyrande would agree with the majority of her people that it was for the best.

Right now though Tyrande focused her thoughts on the road in front of her. They are almost nearing the river of the Rill Song and from there to the paths that Heba wanted them to take toward their destination,

The plan made by Tyrande is rather simple: Sneak in, hope they don't find them and find any clues of the expedition and whereabouts of Maieve and her Watchers. She didn't take anyone else other than three companions with her on this escapade despite the protests of her Sentinels and the majority of the Templar Knights.

 _"You can't do this Priestess! You are the leader of this expedition now. If we lose you too. Not only will the Grandmaster have our asses. But we won't have anyone to replace you with," protested Arthur, the current representative by the Templar. "At least send me and two others. I'm pretty sure I, Lancelot and Galahad would be able to do this and more," suggested the Knight._

 _"Tell me Sir Arthur. Do you have any experience on woodcraft?" asked Tyrande calmly expecting their outbursts from the decision she made._

 _"Woodcraft? As in sneaking on woods?"_

 _"Yes,"_

 _"Well no, but-,"_

 _"And that's the reason why I can't send you and your men Sir Arthur. It's not because I don't trust your skills. But what the undertaking would require is simply beyond you and your men's expertise,"_

 _"Then send us my lady," one of her sentinels interjected who is listening until the Templar had been pushed into a corner. "You don't need to go my lady.. Me and two other Sentinels will follow Heba and find our missing comrades. Our woodcraft is good enough hopefully to pass the passes of Drey Wood. There's no need for you to get involved my lady,"_

 _"I'm going Malleia!" Tyrande simply insisted to the Sentinel in front of her. "You know as well as I do what our people would say if I just remain here stuck safe and sound while you guys risk your lives for me.,"_

 _"But my lady-,"_

 _"I'm going and that's final!"_

That somehow brought the debate to an end; and Tyrande chose her three companions that will travel with her. Of course Heba, the daughter of Hama came with them since she would be their primary guide until they arrive at Drey Wood where the Riders there can then lead them across the winding trails to their final destination. Arko' being Tyrande's protege of course went along. And two Sentinels as Tyrande's guard, Terra and Nova, followed also.

However Tyrande's plan is easier said than done.

Other than the long plain travel that she and her companions made. The Twin Peaks of the South as Heba called it have only two passageways. The most common and widely used by most travelers of these lands were the ons taken by Maeive and her Watchers where the stronghold of the Warlock lay in wait. The second one was through Grey Wood, a forest of shadows where very few dare to tread. And even few know about. It can only be accessed through the rivers of the Rill Song that started from one of the outlying oasis.

The Riders of the Mark despite their wariness of the forest had established an outlying post deep inside it as a precaution and advance warning just in case the Warlock would launch a massive invasion towards their homes. That is where Tyrande planned to reach the moment to rest before they began their final trek to check out the enemy stronghold.

"You know Heba. When you said boat, I actually meant a real floating material with designs of curves that would prevent us from falling down. Not merely a set of intertwined logs bound by ropes and reeds," spoke Tyrande morosely as she stared at the run-down-raft tied on the side of a makeshift harbor. It looked sturdy enough, but compared to any boat. It looked terribly inadequate.

"This will do for the current my lady," answered the daughter of Hama, her headdress making chiming sounds every time she moved. "The current is fast and any boat with sharp design would be bashed on the rocks along the way. A flat thing like this will enable us to easily manage the speed and pull of our raft on the current.

"Are you sure?" asked Tyrande worriedly watching some of the oasis water seep through the middle of the bound bamboos.

"Yes I'm sure. Trust me Priestess. I won't let you ride this if I aren't," replied the woman exasperatedly rolling her eyes. "Now come on! We have a long way to go and the outpost of Drey Wood isn't exactly expecting us and we need their help if we are to navigate the woods to reach the passes of the Twin Peaks,"

"Alright, alright," sighed Tyrande in surrender. "I get your point,"

"Tyra, you're not seriously consider we ride that?" protested Arko' beside her glaring untrustingly at the floating structure with disdain.

"I agree with Arko'Narin my lady," Terra spoke in a warning tone. "This err...thing barely looked floatable. Anything bigger than a log that had an appetite for flesh that lived on this river would be easily able to tip this thing and us along with it.

"Hey Heba," Tyrande called to their guide who are finally setting the raft to float on the waters. "Tell me, are there any flesh eating animals on this river?"

"Dozens," the daughter of Hama only answered cheerfully. "Now come on. We don't have all day,"

Tyrande along with her Sentinels merely groaned as they are led by the optimistic daughter of the chieftain to the barely floating raft towards their destination.

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Draco massaged the top of his head feeling the headache coming already even though he made sure not to touch his blonde locks as he received the patronus message from George. He may never admit it loud to any living soul, but the Templar scribe put a lot of effort on maintaining his good looks.

He had always expected that one of these days the Grandmaster would get himself in trouble and he couldn't have been any more right. One of the twins' patroni weasel had floated at the middle of his room in the middle of the night awakening him from a well-deserved sleep after telling him that the Grandmaster had apparently bitten off more than he can chew and have been gorged by a monster with magical capabilities. And it also stated that one of the ships are coming back bearing the wounded and dead from a raid.

That message alone puzzled Draco. He was pretty sure that a simple raid can't take out a large group of highly trained Templar Knights and carefully trained Legionnaires, much less cause the number of casualties he was informed with. He himself knew that Lord Balinor of Callahorn trained the Legion well and was far from sloppy. Something's definitely wrong here and for the life of him, the Templar had no idea what?

He can't help but also be concerned with this creature that the patronus had informed him about. He knew for a fact that Harrold was no slouch when it came to fighting even without magic and double with his guard around him. The info he received told him that it was a magical one. Draco was not surprised. The Grandmaster himself had told him before they were given the second life here that some of the denizens living here would be creatures whose blood run thick with magic and that they would be severely on a disadvantage.

Still, that did not count that Draco was not concerned with the welfare of the expedition there, and the men that went along with it. Word from the Grey Havens is that the Priestess Tyrande along with a sizeable retinue of Sentinels have tagged along with the Grandmaster on solving the dilemma caused by the attacking of the Vault and the accidental release of the Betrayer.

Politically, Harrold's move is a wises one. If the mission is a success, the bond of the Alliance between the Night Elves and the Terrans would be solidified even more. But the backdrop would also be a magnitude of such failure. If word got out that the Grandmaster and the Priestess have both been killed on such a simple search and find expedition, that would only show that the Alliance isn't needed or working at all. Estrangement between the two races would then possibly occur and the Terrans and the Night Elves can't have that with the two living practically a boat away.

No, he needed to solve this now. However the problem is that magical creature. Sure Harrold and the twins' plus Fleur whom they have found could use magic to a sort. But the ones whom they have bargained with have practically denied all offensive capabilities of their magic leaving them almost muggle like. Those there are currently useless against the creature. Sure, Tyrande is there and could even the odds a bit, but Draco knew the Knights would rather sacrifice themselves by the dozens if it meant none of the Sentinels under their watch would get harmed on either hide or hair.

What he needed is a magical creature to balance the odds of fighting another.

The good news is, he knows of such a creature that can help and would help once he got the message across that the Grandmaster is in trouble...again.

The bad news is, if he dares to summon it. Draco had no idea if it would eat him out of sheer annoyance or not because he disturbed it from its beauty sleep.

...

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It was late afternoon on the second hour of sailing at the Rill Song during their journey when the little group of Tyrande arrived at the edges of Grey Wood where the Mark outpost sat. The heavy rains that came hours ago had diminished to a slow drizzle, and the air had gone sharply chill with the approach of Nightfall. Gray dusk shrouded the forestland. From out of the west, a new bank of threatening black clouds had begun to roll towards them.

Grey wood was a stretch of dense forests covering a series of low rises which ran eastward from the left banks of the Rill Song to a line of high, craggy bluffs. Elms, black oaks, and shag-bark like hickories towered over a choked tangle of scrub and deadwood, and the forest smelled of rot. A dozen yards inland from the riverbank, there was nothing but blackness, deep and impenetrable. Rain falling into the trees in a steady patter was the only sound that broke the stillness.

The Night Elves guided the unwieldy barge into a shallow bay where a docking slip jutted outward from the back, waves breaking against its pilings and washing over its wooden slats. On shore, just within the fringe of the woods stood a weathered empty cabin, its single door and windows closed and shuttered. Easing the barge against the pilings, the Kaldorei fastened the mooring lines and stepped off.

Heba brought Tyrande and Arko' out of the small tent of the barge carefully admonishing them to keep their hooded cloaks securely in place to keep the rain off. Stretching gratefully, the two Night Elves joined her on the docking slip. The Rill Song splashed up at them and they hastened ashore.

Terra moved to the cabin, opened its door peered momentarily about and withdrew. She shook her head at Nova before looking questioningly at the daughter of the Chieftain who frowned and glanced about guardedly.

"Is something wrong?" Tyrande asked seeing the looks being thrown around.

Heba looked away. "Just being cautious. The main post is half a mile inland, built above a tree at the top of a rise to permit an overview of the surrounding country. I thought that the Riders stationed there would have seen us coming, but the weather might have prevented that,"

"What about this cabin?" the Priestess wanted to know.

"One of the several watches the post keeps. Usually there is someone on duty," she shrugged. With the weather this bad though, the commander of the post may have pulled in all one-man sentries. He was not told that we would be coming and he had no reason to expect us,"

She glanced back at the forest. "Excuse me for a moment, please. May I talk to your Sentinels Priestess?"

"Sure," Tyrande waved off as the younger woman walked away signaling to the other Kaldorei to join her and they huddled quickly their voices quiet and furtive.

Arko' padded softly beside her. "Do you believe her?" she whispered. Making too much sound is like an affront to the silence of the wasteland they are in currently.

"I'm not sure,"

"I am. I think something's wrong,"

The priestess did not reply. Already the conference was ending and it seems that a decision had been made. Tyrande wasted no tome creeping forward to hear what was being said. It was her Sentinels after all.

"...something's not right here and I need you two to come with me and scout the outpost ahead," the human female said. She then sighed. "If all is well, we'll come back for Priestess Tyrande and her student,"

Feeling a bit affronted at the feeling of being coddled thanks to her position; Tyrande made a quick decision and stepped forward. "Well this Priestess is going to,"

Heba merely frowned. "With all due respect Priestess. I don't see any reason for that,"

Tyrande merely stood her ground, "I think I can give you one of the many. It is my Sentinels you're commanding and it is my responsibility that they get home alive. Also I am not like one of your human females Heba. We Kaldorei women are trained to fight and kill ever since your ancestors have started to play with sticks. Don't mollycoddle us. The higher our station. The more we are expected to serve than simply sit in the sidelines,"

"Are you sure about this?" asked the young woman.

Tyrande merely turned back to Arko' who had watched the proceedings in silence. "Will you be alright Arko'?"

She nodded, then watched wordlessly as Tyrande turned to follow the Sentinels into the darkness of the trees and disappeared from view.

"Tyra?" the call of her student made the Priestess of Elune stop temporarily on his tracks as she turned her attention back to the lone Night Elf who remained standing on the barge.

"Yes Arko?"

Owlish eyes full of innocence and untainted yet by the harshness of life and war looked back. "Good luck and be careful,"

Despite herself, the Priestess of Elune can't help but feel touched by her student's words.

"Don't worry Arko', I will,"

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Light, white light. That's what Harrold first saw as he opened his eyes. Being the Templar Grandmaster. Harrold never really loved waking up on mornings. Being the head of the "respected" organization. Or to be more honest. As respected as it was during its corruption until he had taken over, Harrold had certain privileges. Waking up late on the mornings was one of those.

"Ughh... my head," groaned the former wizard as he raised his hand to massage the top of his head.

"Easy there you big baby," a familiar voice answered filled with amusement and now that Harrold thought about it, he could feel the soft and smooth limbs of the said person wrapped around his torso like a jellyfish. Of course he knew already who it is.

"Fleur," sighed Harrold gently plucking off the arms of his Master Tracker off of his chest. "How many times must I tell you not to sleep naked when you are "warming" me?"

"Every time," the girl only giggled as she pulled his face to look sidewards to her angelic ones. It took all of Harrold's concentration not to look down as usual when faced with the beautiful face of the flower in front of him that is connected with the naked neck which is also connected to her beautiful naked body. Of course Harrold had seen it more times than he can count accidentally, but he still made an effort every time to resist the temptress that is Fleur Delacour.

The girl ever since she joined the Order had for some reason got it in her head that her use is close to useless. Sure she is a good tracker and a good healer, but her fighting skills which is necessary for all Templars were abysmal. If not for the magic she had which ranged grom healing to shooting stunning spells only which no one on the current world had any defense of she would have been dead a long time ago. Not that Harrold needed to tell her that. So, in return for helping her out from her "marriage proposal" problem by letting her join the Order where her father can't touch her. The girl it seemed had taken it too heart her debt and since she can't repay it the normal Templar way of serving the Order. She opted instead to be the bed warmer and source of heat for him during the cold desert nights of Jerusalem.

Not that Harrold is complaining though he vehemently refused her offer at first. He knew of course the job of a woman as a bed warmer. It was mostly reserved for the women at the brothels. Rich men would order them on cold nights where they must lie with them to share her warmth with the man. Most of the times, such closeness resulted into intimate acts. Only Harrold had managed to hold himself until now thanks to his morals. More than once, he had been entertained to jump Fleur every time she laid beside him. Not that a relationship with her would be bad. The girl had beauty in spades and a top notch character to boot. Any nobleman would have fought tooth and nail to have someone like her on their bed. Sometimes even Harrold wondered why he can't just be done with it. He didn't know why, stupidity, morality, honor, or is it just lady Fate messing with him again.

He got a feeling that it was the latter.

A part of him tells him that like Draco and Neville, he knew Fleur on his first life. Snippets of memories come now and then about a blonde girl like her who was acting snobbish and completely self-important. Very different from the Fleur now who is reserved and who didn't bother talking unless talked to first.

Harrold was just beginning to open his mouth to ask the girl to move her slender body off of his when something immediately kicked in like a bomb inside his head. Harrold moaned as images and thoughts went like a whirlwind inside his brain. His hands instinctively went to his head to grasp his hair and began moaning and writhing in pain, the sound of Fleur shouting his name barely grazing the surface of his thoughts.

Knowledge of unknown magic flowed into him. Very different from the one he currently had. Magich which for some reason drained something from him as knowledge poured through. Crystals of power that can be manipulated in any way from a barrier or a shield that can withstand even the most brutal of bombardments. Powers of instantaneous teleportation that can be used by placing crystals on the smallest of knives to the biggest of battleaxes where throwing them can enable you to transport wherever it goes with only little thought and concentration. Offensive magic of fire and lightning in use with little worry of draining your core and negating the side effects on overloading it which was the most common problems of all who used magic. Magic to create gargantum guardians which can be hidden on plain sight and called for on the right time as long as the caller is proven worthy by said guardians. But most importantly, it also gave knowledge how to transfer everything he knew minus the guardian creating thing to anyone else he wanted to.

Groaning, Harrold sat up from the cot he was lying in trying both to ignore the throbbing of his head from the information overload on his brain and the soft breasts of Fleur which is quite generous pressed on his back as she hugged him from behind praying for him to be safe and calling his name quite loudly as she cried.

Well, there could be worse things a boy can wake up to.

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Like ghosts the four slipped through the sodden curtain of the woods, their steps soundless. Mist trailed about them in streamers thick with dampness and rain fell softly. Rows of dark trunks and masses of scrub and thicket passed away as the forest wound on over the steep rises of and ridge lines. The minutes slipped by and the Elven Priestess felt herself growing uneasy despite the closeness of the woods.

Without a word Terra and Nova split off to either side, disappearing into the trees, and Tyrande found herself alone with Heba. An empty clearing suddenly appeared from out of the gloom, and Heba dropped to a crouch, motioning Tyrande down beside her. The human pointed to a tree at the middle of the clearing that stands taller and bigger than the rest.

"There," she whispered.

High in the interwoven branches of two great oaks sat the Outpost of the Mark. Rain and mist shrouded the building and its passageways which looked to rugged for a treehouse in Tyrande's taste. Neither oil lamp nor torchlight burned within. In fact it seemed that no light came from it at all. Nothing moved. Nothing sounded. It was as if the post had been deserted.

But that should not be if Heba's words were based.

Heba eased forward slightly peering left through the gloom until she caught sight of Terra, then right until he found Nova. Both knelt within the cover of the trees some fifty yards to either side, watching the silent post. Heba whistled softly to catch their attention. When she had it, she signaled for Nova to go in for a closer look. Terra she sent left to scout the perimeter of the clearing.

The Priestess of the Moon mentally smiled in recognition of their guide. If she was born a Kaldorei. She would have made an excellent Sentinel.

Tyrande watched Nova sprint to the base of the oaks which supported the post, easily finding the concealed footings in one massive trunk and begin to climb. Then with Heba leading, Tyrande started right, staying just within the fringe of the clearing, eyes searching the forest for some sign of the supposed present humans. The woodland was sodden and murky, and it was difficult to see much of anything through the tangle of scrub. Even for Tyrande who lived on a forest her entire life.

The Priestess glanced bac to the post. Nova had almost reached the dark building, a command hut that provided the nearest entry to the living quarters. Terra was nowhere to be seen. Tyrande was still looking for her Sentinel when she took a step forward and tripped, sprawling face down across the broken, lifeless body of a Rider of the Mark. Despite her countenance, Tyrande sprang back her feet in horror, silver blue eyes sweeping the gloom about her. To her left lay two more bodies, limbs twisted, bones shattered and crushed.

"Heba!" she whispered harshly to catch the Chieftain daughter's attention.

At once the human was beside her. Pausing only an instant to survey the grissly scene, Heba stepped to the edge of the clearing and whistled sharply. Terra appeared from out of the forest a startled look on her face. At the rail of the platform surrounding the command hut, Nova looked down. Frantically Heba motioned them back.

But almost immediately, Nova disappeared. Something with carapace on it seemed to reach out and snatch her from view so suddenly that it appeared to an astonished Tyrande as if her Sentinel had simply evaporated. Then Nova's scream sounded, short and strangled. Her body flew out of the trees sailing like a fallen limb into the rain, tumbling lifelessly below.

"Run!" Heba cried to Tyrande ignoring all sense of stealth and bolted into the trees.

The Priestess remained rooted where she is for a second, terrible instant. Nova was dead. Almost certainly, the entire Mark Outpost of the Grey Wood was dead as well. All of her thoughts scattered, save one. If she did not get to Arko' in time, she would be dead as well. Then she ran, darting like a panther lithelessly and effortless on the woods of the forest, leaping and twisting through scrub and deadwood, desperate to reach the barge and the unsuspecting Sentinel-in-Training whose life she treasured.

Somewhere to her right she could hear Heba fleeing as she did and further back Terra. She knew instinctively that something pursued them. She could not see it,could not hear it, but she could sense it, terrible, black and pitiless. Rain streaked through her face and ran into her eyes clouding her vision as she sought to avoid fallen logs and thorny bushes that clung to her like ropes. Once she went down but she was up again almost immediately never slowing, her lean form straining to put further distance between herself and the unseen pursuer.

Tyrande was no coward and she wasn't weak, far from it in fact. However there had also been a few times she had been afraid very rare but there they are. However right now, Tyrande was beyond afraid. She was terrified. She could feel the power of the thing. It's even stronger than last time and that panicked the Night Elf. Technically, compared to her, Tyrande's strength is nothing.

Terra's agonized scream of pain sounded sharply through the stillness. The thing had her. Perhaps Arko' at the barge would be warned now. Perhaps she would cast off at once, so that even if she too were caught, at least her young protege might escape.

Branches and leaves tore at her like clutching hands. She looked for Heba but the human was no longer in view. Alone, Tyrande ran on.

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Dusk began to slip rapidly over Grey Wood, turning gray afternoon to night. The drizzle which had fallen at a steady rate for the most of the day changed abruptly to a heavy downpour, the wind gusting sharply as a new mass of black stormclouds rolled across the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance, deep and ominous, On the banks of the Rill Song, Arko'Narin pulled her rain cloak closer around her body trying to preserve her heat while at the same time cursing how the Sentinel armor practically left her shivering.

Then the scream sounded from somewhere within the wood, high and short, almost lost in the heavy rush of the wind. For an instant, Arko' froze staring wordlessly at the dark wall of trees. Then immediately she found herself moving putting on her weapons where she could easily reach them as she ran at the edge of the pier and loosened the mooring lines and stood ready to cast off. Once sure that it could be casted off in an instant, Arko' drew her hunting knife, the blade glistening dully with rain.

Abruptly a disheveled figure broke from the trees not twenty yards downriver, stumbled and pitched forward. When she scrambled up again, she noticed that it was the chief's daughter.

"Get away!" she cried in warning, her voice ragged. "Quick, get away!"

She started towards her, lost her footing once more and went down.

Arko' was already moving as she raced for the fallen Heba. Snatching the other female up in her arms, she flung her over one shoulder and streaked back towards the waiting boat.

Once securing the panicked human, Arko'Narin peered through the mist and rain into the forest. Where was Tyrande Whisperwind?

"Drop the lines!" panted Heba.

Arko'Narin did as she was told, then hurriedly shoved the human to a more comfortable position and used the pole to push the barge into deeper water.

Then suddenly Tyrande appeared. thrusting clear of the forest and racing for the dock. Arko' saw her, started to cry out and went cold. In the shadow of the trees behind the fleeing Priestess, something dark and huge followed in pursuit.

"Look out!" she screamed in warning.

Spurred by her cry, the Priestess gained the dock in a single bound, sprinted its length without slowing and sprang to reach the drifting barge, barely catching its deck with an outstretched foot. She would have tumbled into the river but for Heba, who reached out and pulled her to safety.

Arko' was just beginning to let off a sigh of relief when the black figure of darkness screeched high in a tone that practically froze her blood to ice as it also leaped from the dock and transformed midair to a hideous gigantic creature of skin and leathery wings of grey that spanned from one end of the river to the other, its face a crossbreed of some type of dragon creature with two talons and dark eyes.

The young Night Elf barely had time to open her mouth in a scream of fear before the said talons of the beast clamped on her shoulder painfully, talons digging in through her pauldrons and piercing them to touch skin, drawing blood and before Arko' Narin knew it, she was flying into the air being carried into Elune only knows where by the monster that took her from the only being that cared about her. The priestess' voice echoing on the forest as she cried out her name.

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Hama lighted the torch of the underground vault that had belonged to his families in centuries. He believed that the time has come. The time when his people would rise to greatness now that the prophecied race had come. However it would also mean the doom of this world is near at hand.

Opening the book of prophecies that blew off a cloud of dust cracking with old age. Hama read the words written below there.

 _"The ones sent by the destroyers came as was foretold. And the Templars', chosen of the gods will rise to fight them. Now the Titans that seeded this world will soon be returning. But do they come to save or to destroy?"_

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 **Yah! Another chapter done. Hey, so I was getting a lot of questions whether this story is AU? No, it isn't. though its fourteen chapters already. We are barely at prologue yet. Ive temporarily decided on the timeline. The arrival of the Orcs at Azeroth would come soon. hhihihihi. Anyway please fave and review. This chapter is almost 6K+ Words. The more opinions I get, the more motivated I become. :) I know its childish but its me hehe. As usual, no harem. hihihihi No way! I hate harem.**

 **If you want to know what Heba looked like. I based her on the female statue warrior in Kingsglaive'.**

 **Harrold's new power was based on Kingsglaive.**

 **I know there is no sign yet of Alleia. Dont worry. Well be focusing on Harrold and Tyrande at the moment and solve the final dilemma of the Night Elves and the Terrans.**

 **PS: Vote. Who wanted Medivh to survive?**

 **PPS: Lustmaster! Stay away from me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Before you start reading this. Know that there is a torture part here. Particularly a disecting one. Just a warning. Read at your discretion. This is the last part of the prologue and the events of Warcraft in the Movie will follow maybe the chapter after the next where Alleia will exact her plan and probably be caught, hanged and had her head cut off. ...A big maybe that will be. Still having trouble thinking who will be partnered with Draco.**

Chapter Fifteen

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 _Alone..._

 _It is said that those of our kind suffer,_

 _separated from the glory of the Light._

 _But we are never truly alone._

 _For our warrior hearts are bound by honor, tradition._

 _Battle is waged in the name of the many._

 _The brave few who from generation to generation earned the mantle of:_

 _Dark Templar!_

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Harrold stood in silence on the raised platform as the number of men trickled in droves below him. A combination of Legionnaires, Templars and Mark pouring in like a stream on the empty plaza as they responded to his call. At the far back, he could see the Sentinels that Tyrande had left behind also watching curiously at the gathered group when she went off to that half-assed mission that got her in trouble.

Harrold may never had mention it but he had put a tracking charm on Tyrande's skin at the back intentionally when she was still seasick. Of course like most of his suppressed magic, it only worked halfway through thanks to the forbidden stuff that the deities of this reality had imposed.

The tracking part has been completely nullified but he can still sense her emotions no matter the distance. And the first sign of trouble came later on when he sensed a large amount of fear from her and then a blinding panic that stayed for a few hours until it was replaced by a depression so deep that Harrold guessed that she might have lost someone important to her. Probably one of her guards in a decision made by her.

Of course Harrold accepted the fact that they might lost some men on this expedition. He had enough experience when he led the Templars on exploring new lands. That was also the reason why he placed a tracking charm on Tyrande. While a shown joint effort surely boosted the morale and the opinions of the Terrans and the Kaldorei about the Alliance. Harrold was sure that if he returned with a dead Priestess, and a highly respected one at that, the Alliance would crumble like a stack of cards. Especially if you consider the nature of their mission which stemmed from the head-butting of uninformed Kaldorei Wardens and magic using Terrans.

Waiting for all those who are tricking in to finish arriving, Harrold set his mind on thinking about the Mark.

They are an odd group, that is for sure. Truly he had never expected to see humans on this part of the planet. Initial briefings from the Titans after his death at Acre made no mention of any sort of humans wandering this continent. Most of the old tribes that lived here before humanity evolved into what they are right now on the planet had migrated to the East on the continent and islands of Azeroth to band together and formed the kingdoms they are today. To see a large group still dwelling here on the outskirts of Kalimdor made Harrold shake his head in respect at either at the bravery or stupidity of these humans that dwell on these rough lands instead of searching for a new home where they might live in comfort.

He had already meet their Chieftain, Hama and he had gleaned enough from the old man's character about his people. Though the Mark was left behind in terms of development both in technology and aesthetics by their counterparts on Azeroth. Their is still great potential about them.

They are wise but unlearned. Singing songs about their past and way of life, reciting them to their children, listing the deeds of their forefathers instead of writing them down. Their sense of honor also run deep, almost the same ones as that of the Templar Knights. In fact Harrold liked them. Living on Kalimdor erased their racism to other species and they tolerated nearly everyone that doesn't plan on harming them.

Seeing that the Terrans and those who had come to listen to his speech have finally assembled, Harrold gripped Fleur's arm indicating that she had to let go. After he got his bout of seizure, the deal he made with the spirits of the Titans that created this world had come crashing on him. It took him then an entire night to calm down an enraged Fleur at the sacrifice of such powerful magic. She never left his side then until now.

Looking at him with baby blue eyes, the woman merely nodded in silent understanding as she relaxed her grip and Harrold strode forward at the tier of the raised podium as his people respectfully looked at him.

Taking a deep breath, Harrold then spoke.

"Terrans. I know that everything have not been easy for us ever since we arrived here. As you all know already. We were all chosen, given a second chance thanks to our actions on our previous world to live another life and if I am right, change many others also. You have followed me from Life to Death and then Death to Life again. And I thank you for that. I am honored by the loyalty each and every single one of you gives be he from the lowliest farmer to a knight. There is something that I want to bring into everyone's consideration though. One that we had overlooked and one we must need if we plan to live and survive in this world without someone or something trying to enslave us. Magic," finished Harrold in a pause as everyone digested his words.

"But you have magic Grandmaster," pointed out one of the Knights.

"Indeed I do," nodded the Templar in affirmation. "And so does a few others. But there are just dozens of us. This world is a world filled with magic that practically the entire planet brims with it that it minutes my and my comrades own. Also if we die, we won't any replacement and believe it or not, we won't be alive forever,"

"So what are you meaning to tell us Grandmaster?" asked Arthur, one of the Templars that previously rode in guard with Tyrande. "Why have you summoned us all here today?"

Harrold merely smiled at the forwardness of the knight. Arthur and his little troop of friends consisting of Bors, Lancelot, and Galahad had been the first of the few knights that had fought with him side by side at Acre. Like him, they hated politics and prefer direct facts instead of mincing with words.

"Volunteers," the Templar Grandmaster said simply. "To fight magic of an offensive kind, we need also magic. Do you remember the monster that put me down and dozens of our comrades the last time we fought?"

Everyone merely winced at the thought. It was not easy after all forgetting how much that insectoid woman ripped to pieces trained knights and even the Grandmaster himself with the lithe Elves with ease.

"There are many more like her, monsters powerful enough that cannot be killed in conventional means. Don't get me wrong Terrans. I don't doubt your courage and the strength of your hearts when it comes to battle. But there's no point in fighting beings whose blood laced with magic. We need to even the terms and that's what I'm offering you today. To those who would volunteer at least. The chance to wield magic and wield it in scales that would make the corrupt priests back at Earth froth at heresy?"

Everyone just chuckled at his words. No love were found for the corrupt priests by the people that had been awakened at Azeroth with him. Many actually loathed them. It was saddening to see that only Father Arcturus Mengsk, had been revived with them to maintain the faith of the Terrans here at Azeroth.

"So, what do you say?" Harrold beamed as he palmed his hands rubbing them expectantly together as a murmur went through the crowd that spoke volumes about the positive reaction they had at his proposal.

He just hoped the volunteers would not balk once he told them what is the price of wielding such magic.

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Arko' Narin at the moment was currently terrified to the point of nearly hysterics. The leathery flying monster had plucked her off from her comrades like a rag doll and have carried her for how long knows what ignoring her protests, screams and begging to be let down as it carried her on its claws. Heck it did not even reach when she repeatedly stabbed the thick hided talon that had carried her bloodying her up in globules of dark violet blood that stained her bare skin and armor.

However right now she had other problems to attend than reviewing the memories of the monster that brought her here. Currently she is lying at a table strapped on all limbs, spread-eagled exposing her entire body up front to whatever these monsters planned to do to her. She had been dragged on this house after the leathery abomination dropped her off. It looked like a butchery of some sort. Old blood stains littered the chairs and tables and metal hooks hung on the posts. She could smell the blood of a dozen species on this place.

When the creature dropped her at this place. She barely had time to recognize her surroundings when she nearly freaked out as dozens of green men, the same ones they have fought on the beach pounced on her and dragged her to this building she didn't even have a second to recognize and strapped in here like a piece of meat and leaving.

 _"I wonder how Terra and Nova are faring right now?"_ thought Arko'Narin to herself as she lay there immobile and trying to stem down her fear of the unknown that is about to be done to her. She may have missed seeing what and where she is, but she had seen the two badly wounded Night Elves that had accompanied them on this expedition being dragged to a building with red cloth of some sort outside followed with a small group of green men looking at her kindred with something akin to a leer and excitement as they entered after the ones bearing Terra and Nova. She fervently hoped that they would not torture them or do something like the ones the Satyrs did to the Night Elves that now dwelt on Vroengard at the Grey Havens.

The sound of boots stepping on hard ground brought the young elf's attention as she nearly cracked her neck in alarm as she cocked into the side to see a regular looking human with a small black bag with him. He had also some crystals of some kind hanging on his belt that immediately warmed the room and calmed Arko's spirit. There is something wrong with the man though, she could feel it and every part of her wished for nothing more than he came no further towards her. Those yellow and black eyes unnerved her entire being.

"So you are the specimen that Naruud's pet brought," his voice is normal like that of a normal human as he approached her strapped form. Behind him, a green man followed, expressionless like him. If Arko's bindings did not hold her, she would have bolted.

"Please release me," begged the Night Elf. "I don't want to hurt anybody. I won't tell anyone please. I just want to go home,"

"Don't we all?" chuckled the man laying down his bag on a raised table beside her bed and began stroking her neon hair.. "Name's Pablo Reed, and I'll be your surgeon for today,"

"Surgeon?" asked Arko' bewildered trying not to reel in disgust as his hand ran over her scalp. She had no idea what a surgeon was.

"Yes," nodded the man removing his hand from her hair and began unclasping the straps of Arko's already less-than-modest armor. "The one cutting you open,"

"What? Wait! Stop! What are you doing?!" shrilled Arko' in a panic as the man easily removed the pauldrons and breastplate she had with deft hands leaving her entire front bare as the day she was born while the other green man unclasped her skirt armor ignoring her shrill screams of protest.

Arko' was crying now. She had no idea what he mean by cutting her open and she felt revolted at the fact that her privates had just been shown to them. She can't help but shiver uncomfortably though as she felt his hands wandering over her body feeling her skin pinching her every now and then as if sizing her very flesh. She yelped once when his wandering hands that is covered with some kind of elastic covering wandered over her fastly developing breasts and pressed the tip of it.

"Hmm...very human like," she could hear him mutter as he continued his minstrations downward even once checking her privates but not lingering there as he went again into checking her chest. "I wonder how same it is inside,"

Arko's eyes opened wide like saucers though as the man opened his bag and removed different kinds of sharp objects and placed it on a small tray one after another. She immediately began to struggle further into her restraints. One of the sharpened steel stuff looked like a mini saw that could cut bone easily.

This man finally decided on something as he picked up some small kind of thing which gleamed on the dim light as he approached her side with the improvised knife. Arko' could feel her heart beating rapidly like a drum inside her chest as she watched the knife get closer and closer to her skin. He placed one hand on her breast to steady his other hand as he brought it to blade touched her skin, it stung and the pain increased when he dragged it down from her collarbone to her navel. Arko' tried and tried not to scream, and succeeded mostly with grunts and gasps escaping her mouth. Every now and again she would whimper unable to hold it back as the blade sliced her open. Once gain Arko' pulled at her restraints trying to break them. During the ordeal, her heart shot up too. The man's eye twitched in displeasure, obviously he was expecting more of a reaction.

"I see you are a tough one, but that won't last long, I have my methods. I will soon hear your delicious screams,"

"Wh-why are you doing this to me," huffed Arko' trying not to cry out and give him the pleasure of seeing her wail.

"Because you are a unique one child," chuckled the man. "I've opened nearly five of your kind and they are all the same inside out. However you, are different. You are still growing and that alone is reason enough,"

"Others?" asked Arko' feeling a little hope that there are Night Elves here that might save her. The man simply ignored her this time returning the bloody scalpel with the other knives and approached her bloodied front.

Before the young elf could guess what he meant to do. The man grabbed both sides of the long incision he made and crank open her chest. Arko'Narin could not bear the pain any longer. She screamed and tore at her bindings with renewed vigour as tears flowed from her eyes, The man merely laughed and the crystals at his belt shone with light for some reason.

"My lord we should anethesize her or she might die," protested the Green man who had remained silent all this time.

He whirled around to face the man and smacked him on the cheek. "Don't be stupid!" he cried out and pointed a finger towards Arko' who had finished her screaming episode. "This is not human like us! If she is anything like the others, then she can handle more than this,"

He returned to Arko's side and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, "Oh, you have so much more to show don't you? I cant wait..,"

Once her chest was sufficiently cracked open enough, the doctor then began to rummage aground in her organs. Arko' could only remain immobile in pain, nausea and horror as she felt his hands inside her pushing aside various organs, while she was unable to do anything. Her body had frozen in the pain and shock. A small sentient part of her that didn't register the pain wondered why she was still alive though. It had to do with something of those crystals at his belt that shone like the stars of the sky as Arko felt even more close to dying.

"Ah this is a feeling I never tire of," the main said as his right hand held a particular organ. "Holding a still beating heart. Because here, I feel so closest to you now that I hold your lifeblood in my hands-," he began holding the heart with his two hands now almost lovingly before he began squeezing it lightly. "-to crush it in my hand," Arko's entire body clenched as the important organ was struggling to pump blood, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't do anything! "But whe don't want to do that now, do we?"

"He released the pressure on her heart and hugged it close to his chest, leaning over to do so. "I can feel us bonding now, you and I..," he lowered hs head and _kissed her heart_ her purple blood now coating his mouth and lips before returning it gently to its rightful place in her chest. As much as Arko' was in agony, the very fact that he kissed her still-beating heart caused a wave of revulsion, The man somewhat placated at this point continued his work. He took scraps of tissues from her and with as much pain as precision, took some of her organs also. All the while he cooed and ah-ed as he sometimes ran his hand along the lenght of her body.

"You have such lovely curves," he whispered once beside her neck. "Maybe once we're done here. You could use those lovely assets of yours," Arko' just cried.

The final tally came to a part of her kidney, over half of her liver and half of her stomach along with a chunk of her lung that made Arko' incapable of breathing enough air to talk.

 _"Please, somebody..anybody...Let me die!"_ screamed the young Night Elf as her body was torn apart piece by piece. She barely remembered being stapled carelessly and one of the lighting crystals placed at her navel before the man kissed her bloody lips once caressing her like a lover before leaving with his price and assistant.

 _"Please anyone. Save me...Kill me!"_ was Arko's last thought as she finally succumb to darkness.

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 **East Gate of Gorgoth (Southern City of the Mark)**

Zadra, or to be more correct, former Zadra Gorgath stood ready watching the empty cliffs east of the Barrock. His lord had ordered him to watch this gate and he would do it to the letter. A part of him that remembers who he is before the Reed fellow arrived resisted a little, screaming that the man was usurper and do not have the right to command them. Zadra promptly squashed that part of him down as he continued watching the cliffs with the gate at his back and three of his companion guards with him. His will is irrelevant. Only that of Lord Reed and Naruud.

He was too busy thinking about his lord when a large fireball suddenly erupted between the three of them sending one of his companions to pieces and another badly burnt and moaning on the ground in obvious pain. He could feel burning fire also coursing his system as the nerves reacted to the burnt skin.

Zadra opened his mouth to roar a warning to the wall guards inside when out of nowhere a large knife landed in front of his face. He paused on his shout confused and unnerved by the sudden appearance of the projectile. His courage might be increased thanks to the changes his lord put on him, but that doesn't mean he was immune to fear.

He's just deciding to roar a warning about intruders for the guards inside when a brilliant flash suddenly appeared in a burst of crystals and the last thing that Zadra remembered was a blinding pain on his skull as a black hooded fellow with silver pauldrons with three others rushed past his corpse.

 **North Gate**

"This is enemy sighted within the Northern Gate. The small fishing buildings looks abandoned here and it doesn't look like the gate had been used for a time," spoke the Templar in a soft voice quietly tapping the mirror overlaid on a steel cover that is hanging on his chest like a necklace. "It seems like Chieftain's Hama is accurate Grandmaster,"

"Very good, hold your position there Arthur. Make sure to keep an eye on the enemy patrols. Once the strike starts, I want you and your men in of that gate and ready to open it to our advancing forces," the sound of the Templar Grandmaster replied.

"Acknowledged Grandmaster. What is the signal of the attack if I may ask?"

"A lot of shouting and screaming. Harrold out,"

Making himself comfortable. Arthur rested on a chair at one of the broken houses. His companions Galahad and Lancelot are lounging also double checking their equipment. They still had a couple of hours left before the assault begin and waiting tense isn't going to help them, that's the reason why Arthur ordered them to relax a bit as he for the hundredth time examined the pendant that they are using for communication with the Grandmaster and other squads.

The Grandmaster called it a two-way mirror. One where you could talk to the other and even see them. He had to admit that magic is ingenious. How easy it would be to coordinate attacks with this thing around. You can talk to it even if you can't see the person.

Perfect for covert operations.

 **West Gate**

Jane Shepard plunged her knife at the last of the Green men guards lounging around the area. How easy it was to fight with the ability to teleport from one place to another by simply throwing your knife. Hers is one of the most important mission of all. She was the only woman of the newly formed Dark Templar group and she would prove to them and her Grandmaster that even a woman can rise up above the men and fulfill the requirements of a Dark Templar.

Turning to her two companions who are mopping up the pathetic lot of what could be called guards by these Green men. Jane tapped the mirror on her chest to communicate to them.

"Arlight Garrus, Kaidan. Make sure to arrange the bodies that the sentries above in the morning will see naught but them lazing around or sleeping. Have a rest then. The Riders of the Mark will be here soon and we would need to be there to let them in,"

 **South Gate**

Harrold is a veteran of different battles, magical, and mudane. But as always, he could feel the familiar knot of tension on his stomach as he watched Bors and his team of Fred and George finished the last of the Southern gate guards and are planting the Greek Fire that the Twin Weadleys' carry along with them. He did not ask where they get it as they planted jars all over the wooden palisade now.

It would not be long before dawn and the attack at all sides of Gorgoth would soon commence. He can't help but feel a bit edgy. Down there are probably Tyrande captured and bound and he is here waiting. A large part of him wanted nothing more than to teleport there and rescue the Priestess. Who knows what those vile men would do to a woman whose beauty is unparalleled. Shaking the thoughts off his head. Harrold's logical part of him warned him that this invasion would get rid of the Green men and the monster once and for all.

Beside him he could see Colin shifting but not in nervousness like usual but anticipation and a little bit of anger. Harrold only sighed. He of course knew why his squire is acting like this. Snippets of conversation here and there by the other Templars plus the rumors have given him enough of an overview that the friendship between Arko'Narin and his squire had grown exponentially.

Its amazing how attraction can be labeled as one of the most dangerous emotions of all.

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She's never one to admit defeat. No, she was a Priestess of Elune, a chosen of the Conclave and one of the best there was that her race can offer in terms of being a warrior. However Tyrande right now felt not the best but rather the worst of them all.

She and Heba with a lot of silent agreements occuring on the way had a single mind to rescue her student. No argument was made about that. In fact, Tyrande didn't even have to voice it out. She had to give points to the human girl in terms of bravery. She had seen one of the human expeditions long ago from Azeroth that landed on the shores near the woods of Mount Hyjal. They had a noblewoman with them to colonize the place.

However when an "accident" that involved dozens of Nightsabers are loosened to them by the Sentinels guarding the area, the woman had been one of the first to run back to the ship commanding the sail to be raised, leaving the soldiers guarding her at the claws and fangs of the Elven mounts. Tyrande who had watched the entire ordeal had been disgusted by the cowardly act.

Heba was the complete opposite of that. She was courageous, smart and silent. A warrior through and through despite the horror they met at Grey Wood. Sure she had balked there, but any sane being would.

Tyrande just wasn't sure how that courage and cunning of the girl could help them though right now.

In front of them was the largest man-made fortress that the Priestess of Elune had ever seen (she had not yet seen Minas Ithil). Sure she had been at Eseld, but these houses and the golden hall at the raised hill had been the largest she had ever seen. Compared to the structures that the Northern men of the Mark had, these ones dwarf those in spades.

Being a night Elf, Tyrande felt completely out of place on these buildings. Being a being of the forest, her kind never cared for houses these big and tall, nor gates that loomed over people like behemoths. Hundreds of thatched houses and spaces for different trades and more covered the area. Around the large city and the golden Hall is a wall of thick wood with Sentries patrolling them. Dozens of green men could be seen on the city with none of the "regular folk" as Heba called it. Tyrande felt her heart sinking.

The first reason why they came here is to save Maieve and whatever that remained of her Watchers.

The second which they did not expect was to save Arko'Narin. This place is the only one that had life within a thirty mile radius,.

"What do we do?" spoke Tyrande in a bland voice feeling hopeless as she leaned on the outcrop looking over the city on a small hill covered by a thicket of trees.

Both shoulder pads of her armor is gone and instead of the chest plate that Sentinels wore, Tyrande only had her shift left. The shortcut which is a thicket of thorns and spikes that Heba led her had been unkind to the last of her armor. Of course modesty is never a problem for Tyrande. Night Elven women are vain', very vain and showing off their beauty has neve been a problem for them. Not so for the human with her. Her leather armor had been ripped too pieces and she looked nearly naked now with the strips that she and Tyrande managed to salvage for her.

"I don't know," Heba answered simple as factual as ever. "We can't sneak up on that. Even if we use the swamps on the northern part and get in, we had no way to get out without being spotted at least. Besides, we look very incospicious right now really," finished the girl with a bit of sarcasm lacing her voice as she looked at their less than stellar attire.

"We need an army to take that place,"

"I agree," nodded the girl before suggesting. "Maybe we should go back and ask for help, your soldiers and my father's soldiers,"

"No!" snapped Tyrande. "We can't leave. Not without Arko' at least. Who knows what those monsters below are doing to her. She's the youngest our entire race currently had and...one of the more beautiful ones,"

"Is that supposed to mean something?" blinked the girl. Tyrande only glared at her.

"You know as well as I do that the urges of man can't be stopped. Especially when there is no one and no reason for him to put a buffer on his desires. The urge to breed on the male species is strong and I don't want Arko' subjected to that. With her beauty and being a prisoner she's a prime target for them all down there. So we can't leave,"

"That doesn't solve our problem how to get in or even rescue her," pointed out Heba.

Tyrande made only a frustrating gurgle of irritation. As usual, Heba is right. Confidence and bravery cannot help them here. Even cunning was being proven useless with the variables all set against them. For a second,Tyrande entertained the idea of using Starfall on the base until every last one of those murderers are dead. However the mental strain for her would not be even enough to sustain the magic without her paying her life force and that would be maintaining it at half a minute. Looking at the number of foes below, she guessed that it would need three hours of continuous bombarding magic to at least put a large enough dent on them all.

Ready to shout out in frustration. Tyrande was completely thrown off her legs into the ground as an explosion rocked below and the wave even reached their hiding place. Looking down from their vantage point. Tyrande felt her entire jaw drop at the scene.

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Pablo Reed, self-proclaimed king of Kalimdor ran on trying not to trip on his trousers as he belted them. He had been on one of his fun sessions with the Warden and he had been completely thrown off his sex-toy as when something rocked the entire city nearly burying him inside the prison cells when the roofs collapsed. He barely made it in time as the rocks fell leaving the begging violet skinned sluts to their fates as the entrance was barricaded by the stones.

"What's going on?!" asked Pablo the moment he stepped out of the old guardhouse seeing his minions running around like headless chicken.

Seeing that shouting them is doing no good since everyone is ignoring him. Pablo forced his mind into the nearest one destroying the owner's little sanity left as he ripped the information from his brain ignoring his agonized death throes.

What he saw nearly frightened him. The entire Southern Gate and wall had been blown off to dust, green fire everyhere. His men are already gathering there trying to put the fire off while the rest are arming up as they converged there waiting for whoever started the attack to advance.

Pulling his mind off from the man, Pablo communed with the insectoid woman through the telepathy she allowed him. He nearly cringed at the alien form of her brain as she recognized his presence.

 _"I guess this is about the explosion yes?"_ the woman boredly spoke.

Gritting his teeth from the lack of respect. Pablo answered." _Yes, they have blasted the southern gate. My men are already gathering there. I only know one person who had enough power like that to destroy something so big,"_

 _"Let me guess, you want me to deal with it?"_

The former human of Earth merely gnashed his teeth. _"That was our deal! You promised me his head!'_

 _"Not the time,"_ the monster's smug reply simply retaliated with an amused tone. _"Oh very well. I'll see to it there. Stop acting like a child!'_ then the connection shut off.

"Bloody insect bitch," muttered Pablo beneath his breath as he ran on followed by his guards to the looted golden hall where he had placed his throne. He wasted no time grabbing the golden chain main which was the heirloom of the Mark that he had looted when he took over this place and the sword.

"You two," he pointed at the nearest green men. "Go to the Northernmost house and kill the experiment on the table. "Make sure she's really dead,"

"Yes, my lord!" bowed the two before running off like the mindless drones they are.

Grimacing at how pathetic his soldiers are. Pablo run outside. Part of him is beginning to calm down. He had five thousand Green Men on this city and another two thousand Centaurs whom he can call and gather for war. Unless that damned Grandmaster knew how to work miracles. The poor force he had seen who had been brought to the shores won't be a match to his forces.

For a moment the avenger paused as his thoughts occupied his mind.

 _"Maybe its a good thing that that crusader bastard attacked. If I kill him today then I won't need that insectoid woman anymore. This is a win-win situation. Once Im done with him. That smug bitch is next in line. Maybe I'll open her up like I did with that purple skinned whore. At least she had a good...,"_

"My lord!" Pablo's thoughts was cut short as he glared at the green man who looked like he had been on a warzone. "Le...Le...Le...Legionnaires have appeared!" shouted the man once he regained his breath.

Pablo blinked. He was sure that he had misheard what the man had just said. "Legionnaires? You mean Templar?"

"Yes! yes!" shouted the man in a hysterical panic waving his hands. "The North gate Garrison had been slaughtered by the same black robed men who are currently engaging the Southern Gate. They had opened it and rank upon rank of Legionnaires are pouring through killing everyone on their path.

Feeling fury rose on him. Pablo smacked the man in the face with his gauntlet sending three of his teeth flying. "Then get some men down there and kill them all! We have the numbers! Just overwhelm them!'

Not wanting to be struck anymore. The messenger ran off to follow his lord's orders without a word.

Pablo merely growled as he watched smoke rising from the opposite gates. He'd underestimated the Templar. He should have expected that the attack at the Southern Gate was a distraction so that their main forces could enter from the North. No matter. He still had the advantage. He knew from messages that the ones attacking the Southern Gate are no more than fourty-one people wielding magic unknown. Teleporting in the fight killing one man after another or shooting lightning bolts and fireballs. Well, at least they haven't gone invicible yet. That would be a lot of trouble. He knew that the larger force of the Legionnaires are supposed to aid the ones at the south to morph into one fighting force. Well pity them. Pablo won't make it easy. He could see his forces already making a wall of bodies between the two keeping them off despite the power of the magic of the South and the disciplined Legion on the North. He had the numbers, there's no way they coud...

"RIDE! RIDE TO GLORY AND THE WORLD'S ENDING!

"DEATH!"

Pablo for the first time felt fear as he saw the dust rising from the west road highway. Thousands of those blasted Riders of the Mark in full armor are thundering towards his way and the middle of his army. He had no idea how did they get in. Did the West Gate fell too? How come he had no word of it?

Before the self-proclaimed warlock king could command his forces to gather in a clump to stop the cavalry charge. The thundering horn of the Mark blew and their speed increased as the fervor of the man, beloved by their horses are shared and the charge became a knife through butter as it smashed his army separating the two forces sending it flying in twelve directions as men cursed and died. Now he understand. The Legion and the magic wielders are the bait and the riders are the hook. Too immersed on keeping them off each other. Pablo's forces are unable to clump, an infantry's only defense against cavalry.

 _"Naruud where are you?!"_ demanded Pablo as he watched his army slowly panicking and breaking as the terrible hammer and anvil trap crushed them leaving thousands dead on their wake. It was obvious the battle is lost unless that damn monster interfere. The charge of the horsemen and the stubborn advance of the Legion are proving too much for his forces.

 _"Busy here!"_ was the reply. For a second Pablo saw through Naruud's eyes the bug woman fighting two identical black robed red heads barely keeping her own as they fought her with their own magic disappearing and flashing in bursts of crystals along with the flying knives that seemed to be everywhere using some kind of crystal dome shield every time Naruud used her pincers.

 _"My armies about to be decimated!"_ cursed Pablo as he saw the horsemen mop up his guys. _"At least send that beast of yours so that they will run. Once they do, we might have a chance to win this battle,"_

 _"Done!"_

A horrible shriek rent the air and Pablo felt a ray of hope as he saw the gigantic winged creature that captured those Night Elves hover like a bat over the battle reaching its claws over the horsemen who froze at the monstrosity, the charge breaking.

 _"Yes!"_ thought the man as he watched his troops take heart at the reinforcements when a humongous roar from the clouds practically drowned the screech of Naruud's monster.

Pablo barely had time to look up when a sapphire dragon glinting in the sunlight slammed to the leathery beast with enough force to shake the very air as they crashed to the buildings crushing the residents within as the two colossal beasts fight with claws and fangs.

However it was obvious who was superior. Dragon scale are stronger than the hide of Naruud's monstrosity. Pable watched in horror as the dragon bit the monster's neck the creature's claws frantically scraping the sapphire scales with no effect as it struggled not to be killed and with one snap the dragon cracked its neck. Everyone remained silent as the dragon roared its bloody victory in the sky and that was when the battle was finally decided.

Loads of Green Men dropped their weapons and bolted to the remaining gate that had not been occupied by the enemy. Some went witless and ran this way or that ignoring the commands implanted on their brain by him. Pablo Reed wanted to shriek in anger as he saw his kingdom crushing beneath his eyes. Oh if he only could kill that Templar Grandmaster.

"My lord look out!" Pablo barely looked when he felt his guard push him aside as a flying large knife came into their direction and instead of lodging on his chest. Lodged itself on his bodyguard's chest who fell in a bloody mess on the ground.

Losing his wits for a second, Pablo never expected the sudden flash that appeared like breaking crystals as a familiar figure on black robes with chain mail underneath suddenly stood in front of him holding the knife. Familiar Green eyes bore on him in contempt and the smuggler and self-proclaimed king and sadist screamed in fear as the man raised his hand and pointed it at him.

 _"Legilemens!"_

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"Hurry up, pull this thing!" Colin ordered as he and the rest of the Dark Templars levitated the rocks off the prison cell. This magic is still strange to him though it was easy to work. The battle had already concluded. None of the Green Men escaped. The Eastern Gate purposely left open by the Dark Templar there had been used as an escape route by the Green Men. However that escape route proved to be a death trap as hundreds of captured snakes suddenly appeared on the sand and surrounded the survivors. There screams of pain Colin could hear until now.

"Hurry up!" called the squire as the rest of the Dark Templar finally opened a passage from the debris that covered the entrance of the prison.

"Alright," Colin called to the other Templar. "We have no idea if any of the Green Men survived being stuck here. But if they do. You know what to do Templar,"

They all nodded as flames surrounded their hands and together the group descended on the tunnels.

Colin would sooner wish that he had not entered that cavern in his entire life as he beheld the fates of Maieve and her Watchers...or at least what remains of them.

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Tyrande tried not to fell on her knees as she entered the broken house. The Legion and the Mark are now doing a clean sweep of the city hunting for stragglers when they found this broken down house and then called her.

That alone confused her. Why would they ask her to enter a house. When she arrived, she was greeted by the forlorn faces of the black robed men and some Legionnaires. Harrold was not with them. He was still "interviewing" the leader according to some of the Templars. However it was Fleur's grim face that told Tyrande something was definitely wrong. The beautiful woman entered with her holding her shoulder and the moment Tyrande saw the interior of the room she nearly fainted as she recognized the living thing strapped on the table barely recognizable. She would have lost control of her knees if not for Fleur who held her. Heba who had followed took one look, went green and ran outside retching his heart out.

"A-a-a-arko?" Tyrande barely whispered the name of her student as she approached the body, correction...opened body.

She could see the organs of her student pulsing inside, a brilliant white crystal shining on at her chest emanating warm light. Dozens of incisions littered her student's body showing the flesh, bone and other parts of her. She had been dissected and forced to remain alive. Tyrande took a step and tried not to vomit as she saw that some of the organs had been sliced or cut. Her student didn't even move from the blank look she had looking at the roof making no indication that she recognized her.

"Arko' please," whimpered the Priestess feeling tears on her eyes as she tried to shake the limp hand of the girl without having any reaction of some kind.

"She's in shock Tyrande," explained Fleur standing beside her. "They must have cut her open while she's awake and her consciousness retreated to the back of her mind to save herself from the pain. It must have been unbearable,"

Tyrande wiped her tears frantically only to make way to new ones.

"W-w-will sh-she l-live?" whimpered Tyrande feeling even pathetic as she can't hug her student and only watch.

"Yes," nodded the girl. Me and the other Templars with magic studied this. The crystal is keeping her alive despite on this state of eternal pain. We need to stitch her up and we probably can. But there's no telling when or even if her consciousness would want to return. We need Harrold's advice on this. He'll know what to do,"

"T-Thank you Fleur!" choked the Priestess holding her student's hand. "Find Harrold, and the monster that did this to her. And if you do,..don't kill him. Make him pay!"

Even Tyrande was a bit surprised as Fleur's angry expression turned a bit avian as she spared a glance at the mutilated body on the table.

"I plan to Tyrande,"

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Harrold sat on a stone contemplating his next move. What he learned from Pablo concerned him a lot. He had given the little shit a crucio after he surrendered him to the Night Elves. They could do to him what they did to their people. He had effectively removed his magic leaving him human again and the poor shitstain had fought and cursed the entire way. The insectoid woman Naruud was nowhere to be seen though and that worried harrold.

However he was concerned right now by the words written on the slip of paper by his own hand that he had taken from the voice of malevolence that spoke to him on Pablo's mind.

 _"The Titans whispered of this to you from the stars. They told you of one's return. They told you of ruin, extinction, the end of all things,"_

 _.._

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 **So yeah another chapter done. Prologue is finally finished and we are starting the Warcraft storyline soon. Hello Medivh, Gul'Dan, Durotan and King Llaine! hahaha Or maybe a bit of steamy romance first before we jump overboard. Dont think I forgot Alleia.**

 **This is 8K words dearests, so please offer me a review. I need your opinions.**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

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 _United we stand! Now and Forever!_

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Sestia shivered on her cage trying not to show her fear more than necessary as the rest of her kind begged, pleaded and jumped for their jailers; their blue limbs pushing through the bars of the wooden cages they are in right now. Sestia tried not to cry as another random bare foot stepped on her tail sending shivers of pain crawling up her spine. Unlike her brethren Draenei, she did not beg these Orcs anymore for her freedom. She knew that they won't anyway. Most of them are pitiless and no amount of begging or pleading can change that. Her two sisters learned that the hard way when they are taken for "entertainment" a few days ago and their broken used bodies are thrown to the pit where the rest of the prisoners that died are piled.

Sestia has been born here on Draenor unlike her other kind. She was young, one of the latest of their generation that came unto this world before the war and corruption of the Orcs. She's no warrior. She's a painter. Her father was a paladin which was killed on the said war and her mother died giving birth to her youngest sister. She was the last of her family which soon would go extinct.

Tuning out the pleas of her kind gathered around her on massive square cages, Sestia focused her attention instead on the Orc warband gathering from different tribes in front of a massive stone gate. She can't help but frown. The Horde was usually bigger than this and she had a massive bad feeling rising on her gut. Some of the banners that the tribes are carrying currently that are gathering here belonged to some of the fiercest ones that her tribe had fought. Blackclaw, Longhammer, Hellscream and the ever famous Frostwolf clan. Such tribes normally never gather together, much less work together. So why are they here acting cordially, or at least as cordially as Orcs do?

The answer soon came as a hunched figure appeared in front of the gathered warband raising his hands to silence the roaring and snarling that came from well...everyone. Of course Sestia, knew who it was, Gul'Dan, the Orc shaman that bested the best of the Draenei's paladins.

The young female Draenei's wondering of things was cut off though as something malevolent suddenly filled the air and words of power and darkness rang like a vibrating drum around them. Even clenching her hands to her ears and curling in a fetal position did not alleviate the malevolence of the voice. She can barely hear Gul'Dan speaking to the gathered Warband below.

"The fuel for my magic is life. We only have enough prisoners to send through our strongest warriors. But that will be enough. The enemy is weak. Once we arrived there, we would take them as fuel and build a new portal to bring all of the Horde!"

Looking down from the perched cage she was in, Sestia tried not to whimper in fear as flames of Fel seared the edge of the said gate portal. Someone extremely powerful must be doing it for Fel comes with a heavy price.

That price soon become aware to Sestia as she felt suddenly her vitality ripped from her very being and she can't help the agonized howl that left her lips as her body burned in an unbearable pain, screaming along with her kind as Gul'Dan drained the strength that fueled their souls. She had no basis for the pain and she felt herself falling down and crashing hard on the side of the cage where a moment ago she curled. She's dying, she knew that. Her life energy has been stolen and the ones she had left was barely keeping her alive left. Through her blurred vision she could see the warband roaring through the portal which was now pulsing green. A large orc of the Frostwolf clan glanced at her once and she was sure she saw sorrow there and pity for a second before also passing through leaving Sestia alone on her cage dying.

Of course she knew she was dying as everything turned white on her vision. She sighed, as her life ebbed slowly now. She would soon be with her family with the Light and the pain would be long gone. It was enough. She was tired. Tired of running from refuge on refuge to Draenor hunted down by the Orcs, her long life a curse. Maybe now she can rest.

At least until something new burned on her chest and Sestia screamed as strength and energy filled her being. It was like someone had plunged molten fire on her fueling her essence and she can't help but thrash around trying to get rid of the bloody thing piercing her chest not even recognizing the fact that she can moved again as she felt the burnt feeling washing through every, nerve, muscle, skin and bone. Hands immediately gripped her wrists and remaining limbs holding her down adding even more panic to the Draenei girl. At the back of her head, her brain registered though the fact that said hands are small, too small to belong to that of a Greenskin.

And suddenly someone spoke to her that is not a roar or a growl that she had gotten used to these past few days.

"Calm down girl. It'll soon be over. You'll be fine," a male voice that doesn't sound like an orc or a Draenei said above her.

Still not trusting it one bit, Sestia tried to thrash again unsuccessfully thanks to the hands holding her down. When the molten feeling reached her eyes, she suddenly blinked as everything got into view again and the first thing she saw was the hooded faces that show only piercing grey eyes looking down at her.

"Hey girl, you alright?" asked whatever this person is.

Sestia only nodded registering the fact that the pulsing pain are now gone and they had loosened their grips. She still felt deathly tired but she was alive. She blinked again, looking at them in confusion. They have the same build as Draenei do though they lack tails and horns. She stared curiously at the one that had spoken to her.

"What are you?" she asked in her weakened voice trying not to sound to frightened. Around her she could see a large number of the same black robed people placing some kind of crystals to the bodies of some of her kin pointed out by four wearing grey ones like hermits who are surrounding a ball of magic that pulsed with light. Like her, she saw numbers of Draenei thrashing also before as rivers of light seared through their rotting bodies damaged by the Fel.

"Us, we're Terrans," eye-smiled the man in front of her looking at her curiously. "We're here to bring you to a new home,"

"A new home? We're not going to be slaves are we?" asked Sestia still wary about them. Orcs usually took Draenei as slaves to use on the mines.

"No," chuckled the "Terran" in front of her. "A new home. Planet Azeroth, the home of the Grand Alliance,"

"Alliance?" coughed Sestia still feeling weak.

"Here, drink this," said the man taking a water skin from his side inclining her head gently so that he could pour the drink on her small mouth.

Unable to resist, Sestia just accepted the offered drink, saying a wordless thanks to her rescuer as the liquid passed her parched throat giving it relief. It tasted sweet and sour at the same time. A combination of both.

"Made from honey and wildberries. Its called _Mirurvor_ ,"he explained as he poured small amounts of a time to prevent her from choking from too much.

Once done, Sestia stared with half-lidded eyes at her savior as he examined her body, covering her up with something soft as he removed the rags that the Orcs had given her before to covered her modesty which was less than desirable.

"Who are you?" asked Sestia weakly, still feeling very tired. "Why are you covering your face,"

"Oh this?" chuckled the Terran pointing at his cloaked face pulling it off immediately to show off light brown skin with black hair. Sestia tried not to blush at the handsome face that showed. His face looked more or less like a Draenei only with different skin and no horns. This is the first time she had seen someone as handsome as this.

His hair is pitch black looking extremely silky thought its quite messed up. Now that Sestia noticed it though, his eyes are not grey but silver on one and emerald green at the other. His ears are also pointed and he had a fair face. All in all, he looked very desirable on her eyes .

"Its part of my uniform and dad insists that I wear it according to protocol," he chuckled. "M' name's James by the way. What's yours?"

"Sestia, my name's Sestia," answered the Draenei tiredly before finally succumbing to exhaustion and falling asleep.

She didn't even recognize how the hell did she understand him at the first place or how did he know how to speak at the native Draenei tongue that she had been using on him.

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Green eyes looked over the small pond letting himself entertain a smile as the beautiful violet hair of his wife shone on the sunlight. She looked as beautiful as the first day he met her crouched over the white lillies, her white gown gleaming on the morning sun. Her eyes are focused on one of the smaller buds before placing her hand on it, filling the bud with silver light and the next moment, a white lily now blooms. Gently she put it back on the water again before continuing to the next one.

Until now the sight amazed him. How such simple a thing needed to be fought for ever since the coming years. He still remembered the day when she broke out the news that she's pregnant after they got back from the failed mission on bringing back Illidan.

 _Flashback_

 _"You are what?!" Harrold never believed that his voice could sound as high as that, but it did as his ears registered the two words that came out of the High Priestess' words when she invited him at her solar on the Temple for a private chat._

 _"I'm pregnant," repeated the Night Elf so softly this time as she faced the floor. "I'm going six months now. A six more and I would bear your child. Kaldorei generates children a year instead of the nine you Terrans do,"_

 _"And why did you not tell me?" asked Harrold quite forcefully advancing on the smaller elf. "Why just now?!"_

 _"I'm afraid alright!" snapped the Priestess quite loudly in return. "I'm afraid how you would react! I'm afraid how my people would react knowing that I would give birth to a half-breed!"_

 _Harrold's eyes sharpened as he remembered a toad like woman in his past that called a friend of his that name._

 _"Don't call my child that!"_

 _"It's my child too Harrold!" countered the Priestess. "And it's the truth! You had no idea what this means to my race! To me! Once the knowledge got out that we can birth children again, I don't know how would this change us a whole. Get that in your head Terran! That's the reason why I didn't tell you. This is not only anymore about you and me anymore. This is about my race as a whole!"_

 _Flashback end_

Harrold chuckled as he remembered that memory fondly. It has been one of their three fights the entire time they're together this past twenty years

Yes, Harrold is now forty-one years old and is nearing the end of his life. He still looked the same thanks to the ambient magic that the Titans had given him but he could feel it. The tiredness that Death could only bring. He believed he had eight more years before he'll finally pass on thanks to the price extolled by the magic he dealt with. Still, he did not regret the time he had with his "political mate".

To stave off the shit storm that is to come with the knowledge that the Grandmaster accidentally impregnated the High Priestess. Harrold wasted no time sending envoys (Which is a pissed off Malfoy) to the Night Elven council to propose a political marriage between him and Alleia to cement the alliance permanently between their people. Though part of him mostly felt honorbound to marry the beautiful Kaldorei instead of the fallout reasons. He had expected protests, riots and stuff like that. What he didn't expect was the cheerful nods from most as if they expected it and he could have sworn he saw some even exchanging coins with one another once the proposal was said.

Thus on the sixth month of Adar since the Terrans arrived at Azeroth, High Priestess Alleia Silversong and Templar Grandmaser Harrold James Potter was wed at the Moonglaive with the blessings of Elune's council and Father Arcturus Mengsk.

And at the twelfth month of Adar, the greatest celebration on Kaldorei history was made when news came that Alleia Silversong had given birth to James Galdor Potter, the eldest of the Grandmaster's children and the first half-Kaldorei was born.

To say that a massive number of Kaldorei then rushed off to find Terran mates would be an understatement.

"Harrold?" the cool voice of her wife snapped the Grandmaster from the memory lane as he looked at his wife who had finally noticed him standing there watching her. "I thought you're spending time with Laetri at the flowerbeds?"

"I am," answered Harrold with a smile. "Until Maieve appeared at least. Then the little monster ran off with her leaving me alone. I swear that nanny of hers loved her more than me and I need some company, so here I am," chuckled the Grandmaster.

He's right of course. Other than James who is twenty years old. There are his other children, Albus Potter and the little princess of both realms, Laetri Tyra Potter. Maieve had been the nanny of all three of his children, shocking Alleia's race that the stalwart and stubborn Warden had willingly given up her position for the spot on raising the three. Only Alleia and Harrold knew the real reasons why Maieve left.

"Oh very well, if you have nothing to do, come here then and help me with this lillies," invited Alleia.

"You do know I still do not have the connection the Kaldorei have with plants right?" said Harrold waddling after her ignoring the fact tha the end of his dark red robes are soaked to the knees.

"Don't be humble Harrold," giggled the High Priestess tickling the side of a lily plant which squirmed happily at her hands. "You've awakened the entirety of the trees of Mount Hyjal, don't tell me you're having problems on convincing a lily potter to simply open its buds,"

Harrold just raised his hands in surrender as he stepped beside his wonderful wife. Until now he still can't get enough of her beauty even though she's not human. Some mornings when he woke up at his bed with her curled like a cat on her night gown at his chest, he still can't believe his luck at having her married at him. Back at earth, women who had her beauty and power would be drunk with it already and are either snobbish or prideful, feeling as if the world should bow to their whims. But Alleia, Alleia's not only beautiful at the outside but also at the inside. She's a gentle soul despite the warrior outlook that she exibited sometimes when someone ired her.

Watching her bent down again to caress another plant, Harrold smirked as an idea hit him. Waving his hand, he willed some of the water to form into balls on air being held together by his magic before hurling them at Alleia. The result was immediate.

SPLAT! SPLASH!

"Harrold you dumbass!" her obviously pissed off voice followed as she stood up from where she was thrown at, her violet hair sticking out at odd angles. Harrold can't help but laugh as she then tackled him sending them both crashing down on the water carefully ignoring the lillies as they struggled over one another playfully.

Five minutes later, two soaked figures are laughing as they laid down on the cool gras beside the pond looking over the sky their hands still intertwined.

"You know Harrold, we really should have more times like these," said the Kaldorei Priestess beside of her. "Reminds me of the days after your marriage proposal when you tried to woo me publicly. I'm not sure if I should laugh then or run with embarassment,"

"Hey! I succeeded didn't I?" pouted the Grandmaster looking at his smiling mate.

"Only because I allow it," giggled Alleia.

"Admit it Alleia, you did fall to my charms," Harrold merely replied smugly.

"Prat!" laughed the Kaldorei playfully swatting his chest. "You really have to rub it in my face. Though I had to admit, it felt nice to be serenaded by that guitar of yours through the window. I still remember that time. You attracted a big crowd when you tried hailing me through my solar outside the Temple,"

"Trust me when I say, that was one of the most scariest moments of my life," shuddered Harrold remembering how he imitated Romeo and Juliet by calling Alleia through her window, planning to sing to her with a band. It got the side effect though when the Kaldorei civvies got curious and stayed to watch; resulting to the said band deserting the Grandmaster to his fate on singing alone. "I nearly can't let off a sound after they left. Until now I can't get over that they left me. They never do in any battles, but on one sing along and they ran, the traitors,"

Alleia just laughed once more as she curled on him again as she wont to do and Harrold responded by letting his arms snake around her waist pulling her closer as she nuzzled on him closing the beautiful silver eyes that he had come to love.

"I wish we could stay like this forever Harrold," whispered the Night Elf. "Do you remember what you promised me on that altar with your priest?"

"Now and forever Alleia," replied Harrold simply kissing the top of her head. "Now and forever,"

"Yes, now and forever my love. I really wish that we could remain like this in peace,"

"We are in peace Alleia," pointed out Harrold.

"Yes, but something tells me that something is going to change that very soon,"

The Templar Grandmaster just sighed. In a way she was correct. He could feel in the air and smell it on the waters. Something big is going to happen soon or already happened that will mark the change of something on this world. Especially since he remembered the contents of the prophecies that he had read. He just hoped that they would be able to weather it, for weather it they must.

Not that the Alliance is easy pickings.

Harrold had labored long and hard these past twenty years and he had not been idle twiddling his thumbs in worry of what is to come. The Alliance which previously had consisted only of Terrans and Night Elves now integrated three more major races on the Alliance though the two remained the most numerous.

The first of course that had joined after the Kaldorei was the Riders of the Mark. With the threat of Pablo Reed and Naruud gone, the Horse Lords once more took their ancient land back stretching from the grasslands south of Ashenvale towards the starting sands of the Barrens, their riders riding far and wide. Hama had died two years after the Mark joined the Alliance and Eorl the Young took the mantle of Chieftain, naming the land they had Rohan, and they the Rohirrim, the Horse Lords.

It was through them that the expeditions sent by the Terrans on the continent of Kalimdor begun. And with that the founding of the two species that then also entered the Alliance.

The Tauren and the Harpies.

With the Western plains held by the Rohirrim once more and the paths South of the Twins free. The wandering groups of Legionnaires with Dark Templar soon made contact with the Tauren at the Barrens. Their induction to the Alliance in fact was not such a big problem. With the bareness of the well...barrens. The Tauren tribes that roamed the area and fight the endless fight with the cannibalistic Centaurs led by Cairne Bloodhoof was more than happy to accept the aid of the Alliance despite the first initial misgivings.

The Tauren are shaminastic in their ways and found a kindred spirit on the nature loving Night Elves and the pacifist warriors of the Terrans. With the aid of the Alliance, majority of the wandering tribes of the Tauren that for generations have braved the Barrens moving from oasis to oasis were soon gathered by their charismatic chieftain and moved to the green lushes of Mulgore where they settled on their new home with the aid of their new allies. It did not take long for them to accept the invitation to join the Alliance as they established their new home on Mulgore.

On the other hand, the induction of the Harpies to the Alliance was more an accident than anything else. Fred and George as usual are unable to sit still and Harold gave them leave to roam around the free cities of the Alliance either flirting with the Night Elves or partying at the Halls of the Rohirrim. It was on their way to Thunderbluff, the large town set up by Cairne Bloodhoof that their traveling caravan were ambushed by an entire flock of Harpies. Of course per my issue of orders where wandering caravans must have a Dark Templar with them, the Harpies were dealt with accordingly. However one of the younger ones have not been killed by the magic of the Dark Templar and only broke its wings. For some reason that until now I cannot fathom, the twins had taken it to "rehabitalize" the beautiful creature. That's another word for experiment, but I dare not say it to the other leaders.

Of course as usual, the twins ingenuity impressed me when they managed to extract the feral part of the harpy with the aid of potions, and the Khydarin crystals which we called the crystals that provided our race with our magic leaving the harpy all woman.

With the harpy nests being a usual threat to everyone living on Kalimdor, it was not long before pockets of Dark Templar with the aid of Rohirrim and Tauren raided the Harpy Nests, capturing as many as possible "rehabilitating" them with the process that Fred and George had provided. Soon a new population of "free" Harpies are found minus the madness and the cannibalism. The Tauren ever the gentle souls despite their massive bodies and strength offered to look out for the blank memoried Harpies and helped them settle down on the Stonetalon mountains especially near Windshear Crag and Greatwood Vale where the predators of the land won't be able to hunt the now harmless winged individuals

Under the influence of the culture combination of Terran, Tauren and Night Elf. The Harpies soon created their own path and joined the Alliance under the leadership of Matriarch Beneziah securing the paths of Greatwood Vale to Wildmane Water Well that connected the Tauren lands to the rest of the Alliance.

It was the entering of the Harpies to the fold of the Alliance that made Harrold aware that the population that the Alliance currently had is too large for the current cities.

Five years after the Grandmaster's marriage with Alleia, the Terran population exploded in great numbers especially with Kaldorei marrying most of the single Terran males after the news came out that they are able to bear children again. The sounds of children both Terran and half-elven soon filled the courtyards and the gardens of Minas Ithil and other places thereof on Vroengard Isle. The Tauren also freed from the daily war against the marauding centaurs that wittled their numbers increased their population and said could be said to the Harpies and Horse-Lord.

It was not long before the city of Minas Anor, the Tower of the Moon rose Northwest of Thunderbluff on the lake of Sargeron. In design it was more or less the same as Minas Ithil and many moved into it with the island unable to accomodate us any longer.

Osgiliath, the Citadel of the Stars was also built East of Greatwood Vale keeping the Silver River secure that is the only passage by land that connected the Barrens to the Stonetalon Mountains. The city was a favorite resting place for both the Tauren and the Harpies. The stonewalls and low population of Terrans and Rohirrim made the place a perfect place for the Tauren to meditate in safety and the Harpies enjoyed the rising domes that remained open for them to fly in and enter except for the rainy seasons.

However the greatest achievement of Harrold and his people was Aiur, the golden city of the Alliance where the largest of the Khydarin Crystals was set. Built beside Mystral Lake, the city was truly indeed a marvel of architecture. The golden pyramid of the thousand rooms which was the city's center were the home of the Templar and the Dark Templar together and their families with them. Around the massive structure was a city built to accomodate five million people including that of Tauren size or the domes preffered by the Harpies. Even the unattached Night Elves who never budged on moving to the new cities made by the Terrans settled on Aiur, the jewel of the Wesst. It was now Harrold and his family's home and the seat of the Alliance that owned over a fourth of Kalimdor under its control. Thousands of crystals other than the great crystals were placed on Aiur that provided strength for the shield surrounding it other than its golden walls, so that no one with ill intention are able to pass through its sacred walls. The presence of too much crystals also granted the inhabitants therein minute powers that Dark Templar also had access too.

With the population of the Terrans exploding in great numbers, Harrold finally reformed their entire society into three castes. The judicator caste, the Templar Caste and the Artisan caste.

The judicator caste are normally the ruling conclave, the one in charge of the safety and the protection of the Terrans as a whole elected by the people to be their leaders according to their times. Harrold was at the top of this caste though his abilities lie more on the Templar Caste than anywhere else. The Judicator Caste mostly stayed on Aiur under the leadership of Draco Malfoy barely leaving it as the running of the Alliance took a great deal of work.

The Templar Caste on the other hand was the warriors of the Templar and the ones in charge of their safety. The entire knights and the old ways are finally casted off and the warriors of the Templar caste was divided into different sublevels.

The highest of these are the High Templar. Able to wield the power of the Khydarin Crystals given by the titans in efficiency, they are the masters of psionic energy, able to transform into beings of pure light and power by sacrificing their lives.

The second and the most common which provided the bulk of the Templar Caste are the Templars themselves. No longer the heavy wielding humans that resembled the medieval age, the Templars are clad in gold and black, their twin swords powered at the edges by the Khydarin crystals. However it was the final members of the Templar Caste that everyone is wary of, though they respected them.

The Dark Templar. Master assassins and saboteurs, they are the bane of the enemies of the Terrans and the personal guard of the Grandmaster. Although the High Templar are able to wield the powers of the Khydarin crystals into pure energy, the Dark Templar are able to wield the crystals on their very own bodies giving them power both psionic and physical prowess increase. Very few though joined the Dark Templar thanks to the price extracted by the magic which is half of their life force.

Only the Border Legion, the former Legionnaires are the warriors that didn't belong to the Templar Caste, refusing the change of their culture. Many still joined the Legion and though they are not part of the warrior class of the Templar. They are still respected with their discipline and bravery in battle.

The final Caste and the most numerous though was the Artisan Caste. Technically the Artisan caste was the civilians that lived on the entirety of Aiur practicing their trade and living their lives in peace.

However although Aiur was the jewel of the Terrans' ingenuity and hardwork. The most recognized of all cities is Paranor, the home of the Druids and the Greybears. Located at the boughs of Mounth Hyjal, the Druid keep are mostly composed of old men collecting the manuscripts and things of learning that they can gather on every edge from the Alliance, preserving them on the deep vaults of the Keep. Powerful wielders of Khydarin crystals these mend are and their wisdom is great and treasured mostly by any of the rulers of the Alliance.

It is said to be one of the worst ideas to ignore the warnings of a Greybeard.

Harrold was brought out of his musings and peace at holding Alleia in silence when a Dark Templar appeared in a burst of crystals beside them bowing.

"My lord. Your son has arrived with the aliens tha you said he must rescue. They are right now at the courtyard outside the Hospital Wing where the medics are aiding them,"

"Very well, tell my son I will be there shortly," answered Harrold with a sigh knowing that his cuddling time with Alleia was cut short.

"I wish he could have been delayed longer," muttered Harrold forlornly as Alleia sat herself up.

"Me too," she sighed with a pout before pressing a kiss once more at Harrold's lips.

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 **Thanks please review. Feel free to PM me if you have complications or quesstions.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

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 _"On the ground we strike harder, On the air we move faster. And as our age begins to dawn. They will learn to fear us,"_

 _-James Potter, Templar_

 _"We are one in the Khala,"_

 _-Albus Potter, High Templar_

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"Brother!" the familiar voice of his younger brother caught James' attention as he looked up from where he was lying to the ground thanks to his less than stellar talent on emerging from portals unscathed. Not the best way also to look cool when there are girls around to impress. He and his youngest sister Laetri seemed to have their father's bad luck when it came to teleportation magic of any kind. Only Albus was exempted from it.

"Are you alright?" the cute voice of the Draenei he rescued and cared for himself asked as she bent over at him curiously, her circular eyes looking at him in concern. Even half-starved and badly malnourished, she still look radiant in his eyes with those circular innocent eyes that held a shrewdness below them.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about it," waved James off the pretty girl's worries as he dusted himself standing up. Looking at the black voice portal from which dozens of Dark Templar appeared with the Draenei that they managed to save from Draenor that had been used as a Fel Sacrifice with the Khydarin Crytals that they had brought with them.

"James,"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," said the white-haired Draenei beauty. "For saving me and my people. We would have been dead already if not for your intervention,"

"Think nothing of it Sestia," smiled the eldest of the Templar Grandmaster's children. "Its my father you need to thank. He's the one who sent us. For some reason he knows where you where and when to send us at the proper time,"

"That answers my suspicions," muttered the young girl. "I've wondered how impeccable your timing is when you arrived. Any minute lesser and you would have met the warband and trust me, it won't be pretty,"

James' only laughed. "We'll put that to the test one day,"

"James-,"

James Potter felt him first coming closer to him rather than seeing him as his younger brother appeared with a couple dozens of healers and a fair number of Templar guard with him.

"Brother," greeted James with a smile as his sibling stood over him with a raised eyebrow wearing the familiar robes of a High Templar eyeing his rent and dusty black robes. Although he is frowning, James knew he is more amused and happy at seeing him through the link.

"You do know mother's going to be mad at you with you ruining your formal attire before the Star Feast Festival tomorrow right?" said the High Templar simply as the aides of his scattered to help and heal the injured Draenei that are still pouring over the portal being held open by two Druids and a Greybeard.

"Oh come on. I just came from a battlefield all battered up and dirty and I don't even get a hello Albus?" James pouted.

"You as well as I know that the mission you went at is as dangerous as a Thunderbeast munching grapevines brother," replied Albus dryly. "So how'd it go James?"

This time James let off a tired sigh as he slumped tiredly on his ass leaning on his hands supporting him on the back. "As well as it can be brother," sighed the Dark Templar. "I saved as much as we can with the Khydarin crystals that we brought with us and managed to restore their life energy. But there's only so much we can save even with the help of the Druids. The place is practically filled with Fel energy that we had to sacrifice half the Khydarin crystals we have brought just to put up a buffer on that gate to delay anyone mad enough to try and open it again,"

"So how many?"

"What?" James blinked questioningly at his brother.

"How many did you manage to save? This Draenei our father wanted you to collect," repeated Albus quite annoyed. James just giggled inside. It was so easy how to annoy his brother. He could feel it on their consciousness meld together. As a High Templar, its obvious they always get what they want thanks to their station. Achieving the station of High Templar is not easy though, and most people forgive the powerful individuals for their bouts of arrogance.

"Six hundred, mostly women and children and a few dozen males,"

"That small?" said Albus in an inquisitive tone.

"They are at war brother. What do you expect?"

"Excuse me, but this they had a name you know," an annoyed voice stopped the two siblings from continuing their banter as they both turned their heads to the white-haired Draenei beside James who had been forgotten for a minute. She went red as both individuals stared at her though she stood his ground with her chin up.

It was Albus who spoke up first that cut off James from introducing the pretty alien woman.

"Who's this James? Your girlfriend? She's very fiery, quite the type that you like adding to your collection of lovers brother," said Albus in a teasing tone making the Draenei glare daggers at him probably thinking that she'll be made off as a prize as James' sweatdropped as his brother mentioned some of the womanizing activities he does like his Uncle's Fred and George.

"Shut up Albus! This is Sestia..err, I never got her last name,"

"Sestia Paintwood," curtsied the Draenei girl at Albus who bowed in return.

"Pleasure's mine milady. I am...,"

"Albus Potter, my younger brother, High Templar, the one who discovered the secret on how to use the entire potential of the Khydarin Crystals, creator of the base codes of the Khala, and the one who designed the old wall protection of the entire city of Aiur," finished James for him ignoring the pissed look of his brother for stating all his achievements as the Draenei merely looked at them in confusion.

"Khydarin Crystals? Khala? Old Wall? Aiur?" she repeated in a confused tone.

"Please my lady. Forgive my older brother for his antics," apologized Albus throwing him a glare. "There's a lot you had to know about our civilization my lady. For starters on the question you had asked, the Khydarin Crystals is the source of our power for most of us who uses psionic energy which is our replacement for magic. It can be manipulated to heal and unleash energy in any form, on which crystals is the easiest. I believe my brother used one on you to remove the Fel from your body?"

"Yes, he stabbed me with it," spoke Sestia knowingly making James flinch at the glare his brother gave him again.

"Laying it to the rest would have been enough, but it can also be done like that. As for now, I wanted to say welcome to Aiur Sestia Paintwood. This is our home, the seat of Terran society and the heart of the Grand Alliance. Don't worry. You and your people will get a briefing soon and we'll relocate you to your new homes," smiled the High Templar reassuringly.

"What about the Old Wall and the Khala?" asked the young female.

"I'm sorry, I can't speak about the Old Wall," smiled Albus softly. "It's our primary line of defense. "But as for the Khala. It is the...,"

"Collective consciousness of all Terrans," spoke James cutting his brother off. "My father with my brother here have discovered the nature of people. We might be Terrans but we are no the same from most individuals. We all have hopes, dreams and desires that will clash with someone else's. No matter the rules and regulations, no matter the arbitrations. Conflict will always arise every time a group of people gather together no matter how minor which will then evolve into something bigger and greater as time will pass. It also does not help that the more people create factions, conflict among such factions will occur either out of competitiveness, or anything else. It is in our nature to fight and dominate and my father resolved to fix that. The Khala is the answer. Albus here discovered it. With the aid of the Khydarin crystals that all Terrans had in abundance with them. We manage to merge the consciousness of our entire society into a single collective where our minds and consciousness are connected with one another merging the entity as a whole,"

"So you can read each other's minds?" asked the Draenei.

"No, the Khala's purpose is not that. It's more like we can feel the feelings and consciousness of one another. Every time someone tries to hurt someone. The one who did it can also feel the pain of the other and so can the entire collective. And if anyone's happy, the entire collective can know it also. And when someone's worried about something, we do our best to resolve that person's worries as everyone can feel it. That's the reason why that despite our faction system of living. Our society is bound to one another without a hitch. Our unity had made us strong and no longer alone as we are joined altogether in the Khala. And that is all thanks to my little brother here," smiled James' shouldering the High Templar.

"And he's also so humble about it," added the eldest Potter chuckling as his younger grumbled.

"That's nothing to boast about. I'm only doing what I feel is right," he mumbled.

James just waved a "see" motion, glad that the young Draenei female giggled at his antics. However he was broken out of their arguing as a familiar voice spoke at his back.

"Now, now James, Albus. I believe you had irritated our guests long enough with your chattering. Why don't you get them bathed and set up on the guest rooms readied for them?"

Turning around, James smiled as he saw the familiar faces of his father and mother who is expressing amused smirks who had heard their entire banter. Bowing per protocol thanks to his station. James then spoke formally. "Father. I've done as you asked. I've saved as many of them as I can,"

"Admirably too," nodded the Grandmaster looking at the Draenei scattered around the castle courtyard being helped by healers eyeing the golden-armored fierce looking Templar guards with curiosity and nervousness watching over them as stiff as statues. "Who's your friend?"

"Her?" pointed James at Sestia who had hid at his back at the imposing sight of the Grandmaster. James can't blame him. His father is a very well respected figure and loved by everyone on the Alliance. He is brave and cunning and the epitome of kingly composure minus the arrogance. With the white and gold armor of his and the robes surrounding it, he had every bit the look of a leader. Though he can be fun when they are spending some time with them as a family.

"Father, mother this is Sestia Paintwood. Sestia, this is my father and mother Harrold James Potter and Alleia Silversong, Grandmaster of the Templar Order and High Priestess of the Moon. They are err...leaders of our people,"

"Hello," waved the Draenei weakly before squeaking and hiding behind his back again. James could practically feel the amusement of his parents and brother then as the girl hid behind him. For some reason, he got the feeling that he would be playing nanny and tourist guide sooner than he expected.

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CLANG! CLANG!

"Come on move your feet faster!"

CLANG! CLANG!

"Faster! She who moves like a willow tree is victorious. She who stands like a rock will endure!"

CLANG! CLANG!

"Not too much girl!"

CLANG! CLANG!

The sound of blade hitting blade sounded on the small training field that had once belonged to the Warden of the Vault before she became the warden echoed on the empty trees as the two figures tried to bowl over one another. One had green hair with streaks of cyan on it wearing heavy metal armor and wielding a large circular glaive which looked too big to wield, yet the owner carried it carelessly as if the weight meant nothing to her at all.

Her opponent on the other hand looked young. Too young in fact. Unlike the covered armor of her opponent, hers is the traditional revealing armor of the Sentinels which revealed most of her still developing body. She had light violet skin with a tinge of pink and dark violet long straight hair adorned with leaves and a moonstone that fell to her butt. Unlike the glowing eyes of her opponent, she had emerald ones that lights up like a cat. At her hand is a slender sword that looked too thin and slender, disagreeing with its size and design as it fended off the larger and bigger weapon.

That is what the scene Tyrande walked in to as she stepped out of the game trail of the forest amused at how the two individuals blurred black violet likes with one another as they trained like usual. Of course she knew who they were. Maieve, the former Warden of the Vaults and Illidan's jailor, now the nanny of the three children of High Priestess Alleia and her opponent is Laetri, the dancing blade, the most renowned sword fighter of the Alliance, Harrold and Alleia's only daughter. Her title she earned when she beat most of the Templar Caste who are experts on wielding their double glaives with her sword.

It did not take long for the two to notice her arrival and her companion as they toned down their fighting, breaths heaving in exertion as they calmed down before finally smiling to one another.

"Good job Laetri, a few more years maybe and I won't be able to beat you anymore," smiled Maieve clapping the shoulder of her student as they walked off to a nearby stream to wash themselves, waving Tyrande to walk beside them.

"Thank you Maieve," beamed the sixteen year old girl happily. "At this rate it won't be long before I could finally join the Sentinels or at least the Templar Caste. I just hope I'm good enough for any of them,"

Tyrande resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The girl could pass the Sentinel tests if she wanted to already and can even reach the rank of Priestess with the amount of magic she had. The resemblance between her and Alleia is almost the same when the High Priestess was younger that Tyrande felt uncomfortable sometimes. It's so uncanny to see the smaller version of her best friend walking beside her again, bringing her thoughts in times of peace before the war.

"Don't worry, you'll be able to pass them no problem," Arko's voice said softly beside Tyrande making the green eyes of the youngest woman beam as she immediately pounced on the newly inducted Sentinel in a fit of giggles and laughs as the two young Night Elves rolled across the bed of grass and flowers leaving the two older women staring at one another.

"Priestess Tyrande,"

"Maieve, so...training Laetri again I see," said Tyrande softly watching the daughter of Alleia wrestle with her surrogate daughter.

"Yes, she's progressing faster than I expected and she would need a new teacher soon. One that is better than me," said the former Warden morosely. "Maybe one from the High Templar Caste,"

Tyrande only snorted. "You know as well as I do that the High Templar only apprentices the ones who would join them. Trust me Maieve, she's doing well enough under your wing. Besides, can you imagine separating the two of them," pointed Tyrande at the two, where Arko' managed to steal the sword of the other girl and are being chased around the trees by Laetri, their laughs echoing the woods making Tyrande's heart sing at hearing the sound of laughter once more on the trees of Ashenvale.

"I'll think about it," is Maieve's curt answer.

"Of course,"

Tyrande did not press the matter. When talking to Maieve, that's the best anyone can get for a yes. The Warden had changed ever since they rescued her. Out of the sixty wardens that they rescued that day. They only recovered eight left. The others perished in different ways, their bodies unable to keep up with the demands of the army that they are forced to serve in...all ways. The others too horrified at what happened to them retreated to the island of Vroengard at the Grey Havens except for Maieve who swore herself to the Grandmaster and his family to forget her ordeal. In fact in Tyrandes' opinion, the Warden have already went leaps and bounds in recovery as she enjoyed helping raise the three children of her best friend. It brought a softness to the cold and stoic woman again.

As for her student, Tyrande watched Arko' play around with the younger elf. She had been traumatized with what happened to her. Anyone would be. After Harrold managed to coax the memory out of the girl and put it on a "Pensieve" to view what happened to her, Tyrande had vomited inside the memory. She herself exacted vengeance for her student by sawing off the hands of the sadist that is now imprisoned on their vaults.

Arko' was also the reason why Tyrande didn't pursue Harrold to be his mate. Her surrogate daughter needed her more and the priestess stayed at her side comforting her. She do not hate Alleia for being Harrold's mate. She was glad in fact. Her sister-in-heart had never smiled so much with him. Even her children loved Tyrande calling her auntie, and she was touched when Harrold christened her godmother of his children. As for Arko' Tyrande had a lot to thank Albus Potter. Only with the forming of the Khala three years ago did Arko' managed to rise up from her horrors and finally pass the tests of a Sentinel. Mostly Terrans are just the ones who are connected to the Khala with the magic of the Khydarin crystals, but a fair number of Kaldorei joined in. Arko's one of them. Sure she's still a bit fragile, but she's better now, especially since she had befriended Alleia, who was very beautiful like her mother and friendly despite her prowess.

Tyrande won't be surprised if she would walk in the two being intimate towards one another one day at the moon wells.

"So why are you here Tyrande? I don't believe it is just to see me and Laetri is it?" asked Maieve sitting at one of the tree stumps, placing the massive glaive in front of her before running a whetstone on it, the metal making a scraping sound every time the stone slid on it.

"No," sighed Tyrande. "I bring word from Aiur. "One of our runners there had arrived at Moonglaive bearing news. Apparently a new race is to be inducted on the Alliance again soon,"

"Don't tell me it is the one that Harrold and James had been planning with the Druids of Paranor Keep is it?" spoke the former Warden, her eyes gleaming a bit than usual.

"It is," nodded Tyrande. "Apparently according to initial briefings, the new race are called Draenei and they're almost the same as us, except for the fact that they had horns and had hooves for feet. Oh, and they're blue,"

"Excuse me?"

Despite herself, Tyrande smirked. "Yes, the tone color of their skin is blue. Almost on contrast that most of our people had,"

"Interesting," said Maieve thoughtfully. "Still, don't you think that the other leaders of the Alliance would take it well on inducting another race as part of ours on such short notice?"

"They will. Alleia had already agreed to it," pointed out the Priestess of Elune. "They're not that big of a threat and they barely reached the number of one thousand. Most of them are also civilians and plain terrified at the moment,"

"I see. So when is the Grandmaster making their induction at the Alliance official?"

"Two days from now at the Star Feast Festival," answered the Priestess. "And speaking of the Festival. Have you helped Laetri on whatever piece she will show to the public?"

Tyrande watched as Maieve only grinned at her. "Of course. What do you think we have been doing all this time together? Twiddling our thumbs and lazing around talking to the Ents?"

"Considering the girl's fascination of them, yes,"

"Stop worrying Tyrande. She'll surprise you. She'll surprise every last one of them," waved Maive off.

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"So what's all this fuss all about?" the boots of Lothar echoed on the empty happened the infirmary.

He had rushed here straight from the Iron Forge after he received word from the Dwarven king himself that one of the outlying villages at the borders of Elwynn forest had been attacked and the town which had a garrison of two hundred men had sent thirty soldiers to check what the problem is. That alone is not the problem. No, the problem is, the soldiers sent to check on the village had been killed to the last man, their bodies found later by the patrols. The other part of the problem was the fact that these men had been killed by weapons. Something to be seriously considered.

"The letter had already been sent to you my lord," bowed the captain of the garrison. "We had no idea what did this to them, maybe a large group of bandits or some rogue magician judging from the burns and rotting of some of the bodies,

"Don't we have any lead at all at what did this?" asked Anduin Lothar eyeing the white linen covered corpses of the soldiers he had come to visit.

"Actually we do my lord," said the captain with a grimace on his face. "A spell-chucker from Dalaran had come to study the bodies.

"Really? Where is he?"

"This way commander," urged the captain leaving the bodies of the dead behind them as they entered a hallway that led to one of the adjoining towers. Neither of them noticed the shadow smoke that then emerged from one of the side doors morphing to that in the form of a crouched man.

His face is hidden on a length of violet cloth that only showed his upper head from the beginning of his nose to his blonde hair that looked barely recognizable with the soot and black strands on it. Piercing grey eyes that gleamed with magic moved around as the man scooted over the bodies in a crouch. He is wearing a violet cape that had seen better days and pants. Golden pauldrons also dusted in dirt held together the cape barely showing the chest with many scars on it beneath as he bent over one of the bodies.

Bending down over one of the bodies, the figure moved the cover on it showing the rotting flesh that it had. Placing a hand on the temple of the dead soldier who had the symbol of a sergeant, he then muttered some words with his eyes closed before opening it again with recognition now on it. Moving his hand to the bracer at his hand, the figure removed a sharpened pencil long crystal shining blue and plunged it at the chest of the figure.

The result was immediate. The crystal shone with blue light and the figure thrashed as the light went through its body bringing life back to the seared flesh. It did not take long before the man was panting again tired on the bed and would have screamed in alarm at the sight of the figure bending down if not for him being suddenly covered on the mouth by a gauntleted hand.

"I bring tidings of doom," the figure spoke, his deep voice eerie like having a second voice behind it. "You will tell your commander of what happened to you and the dark magic that had come to this world. You will tell him to tell your king that Oblivion now knocks and he musn't trust the Fallen One. Understand?"

Once the figure nodded, the blonde man removed his hand. Immediately he whispered in a tired but fearful voice.

"Who...Who are you?"

The man hid the crystal once more at his gauntlet looking at the now alive Sergeant.

"I am he that brings the tidings for this world," he spoke once more before morphing back to the shadows just as Anduin Lothar appeared from the tower door with Khadgar in tow and the captain.

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Harrold smiled as he petted the magnificent blue dragon on the scales. His young friend had grown up so fast that he barely had been able to keep up with her. Her wings are barely able to be accommodated anymore to the dragonhold of Aiur and she had to land on the courtyard much to the annoyance of the servants as the magnificent beast's claws could crack the stone at its very landing.

"So here you are after all," the familiar voice of his wife sounded at his back making the Templar Grandmaster smile as he turned to watch Alleia approach him as graceful as she ever was, stepping at his side. Immediately the dragon whined and butted the Night Elf's shoulder making the two laugh as Alleia then scratched its nose making it purr as it lay on its belly happily.

"I've been expecting to find you in your study. Its barely past midday, you never came out so early anymore," said the Night Elf still scratching the dragon's snout.

"Well, I had some free time today," chuckled Harrold. "Albus volunteered on dealing with the paperwork temporarily and James wanted to be the one to do the routine check-ups of the Templar Caste, so I have a lot of time on my hands at the moment,"

The Templar Grandmaster in fact was very proud of his children. Governing the Alliance and Aiur is no easy job. Despite the Alliance being made by different factions with its own leaders and independent on their laws. For some reason that until now he cannot fathom, Harrold had found himself being the de facto leader of the said Alliance.

After all despite their strength, not all of their problems is peaches and apples falling down on trees and need to be dealt with daily.

Usual raids from isolated bands of bandits at the lands of the Rohan occur usually despite the efforts of the Dark Templar. It had become easier with the induction of the Harpies as the female flyers could spot hidden camps from the safety of the air though the bandits became wise to that soon. At Thunderbluff, the occasional rampaging Kodo from the herds that roam on the lush forests bothered the Taurens. The Harpy war which is occuring daily at the mountains which is one of the main problems of the Alliance. Apparently the "feral" Harpies aren't too happy at the pacifism of some of their kind and tried hunting them down. Only when the dragons moved to live at the mountains did they finally back off. As powerful the Alliance is, facing airborne units had never been their forte. Only the Night Elves with their bows' and the High Templar with their Psionic powers could fight off the roving bands of flyers and the former isn't exactly inclined to leave the boughs of their ancient home.

However it was the constant Centaur threat on the walls of Osgiliath that came from the Barrens that proved to be the constant war that the Alliance fought against. Thankfully the Centaurs is as organized as crabs, fighting over one another even as they tried to raid the walls of the citadel. In fact despite the danger they posed, they proved to be good training for aspiring Dark Templars and the Elite of the Templars that doesn't fall at the High Templar category, the Zealots.

"So what are you doing here Alleia?" asked Harrold. "Aren't you supposed to be at the Temple of Elune at this time? And don't tell me that you're going to remind me again about the Feast of the Stars Festival? I have a piece prepared and I'm not going to stand there in shame when everyone had theirs," said Harrold knowing the massive feast celebrated by the Night Elves every hundred years that is going to occur two days from now.

"No, its not about that," sighed the Night Elf patting the snout of their faithful dragon friend. "I bring word from Draco. He said that the Draenei preferred to live at Aiur at the moment at least until the city of Doriath is finished building. It seems also that our very own James' was smitten by that pretty hostage that he seemed to dote at the moment," finished the Night Elf with a smile about their son's crush.

"She seems respectable enough," grunted Harrold knowing his elder son's tendency to woo women. "I just wished that he would be serious about his relationships. It seems that he tend to fall with anyone who had a pretty face. I still can't face Fleur after he tried sneaking in some flowers to gain her affection,"

"Don't remind me of that one," Alleia replied remembering how the Veela rubbed on their faces that their son had tried wooing her. "I never knew that he is too older girls that time,"

"I know, but Alleia, really?" whined Harrold. "Draenei? I know the Titans wanted them saved, but goat women with tails? I don't even know if what they had under all that clothes are all tentacles and stuff with how alien they are,"

"Tentacles and stuff?" the High Priestess blinked questioningly, stopping her scratching on the dragon's snout fully.

"Oh, forget I said that," waved Harrold immediately seeing the look on her wife's face.

"No, explain it,"

"Please, its just some fancy imagination,"

"No, I want to know about it,"

"Come on Alleia, you don't want to know about it,"

"Please, indulge me Harrold,"

The two would have went on arguing on if not for the appearance of a Druid from the entrance to the grounds that stopped the two from arguing immediately as they looked at the newcomer who bowed on their presence.

"I bring troubling news from Paranor Grandmaster. The Druid Council had sensed it a few days ago after your son returned with the Draenei people,"

"What is it you sensed Druid?" asked Harrold directly knowing how much the Druids like to bandy words if given the chance. He had fallen into that trap once and it took three hours of listening as they kept him dangling on different opinions until Alleia rescued him from it.

However even he can't help but feel a sense of doom as the Druid spoke one word only:

"Fel,"

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 **So that's that. Review and fav me please. Next chapter is the Feast of the Stars Festival and the final once before the expedition to the continent of Azeroth and where Alleia might be caught.**

 **I know I put the Khala in, but thank you Starcraft II Im currently addicted to you.**

 **Overview of the Races of the Alliance at Kalimdor according to Strength**

 **Terrans**

 **Night Elves**

 **Rohirrim**

 **Harpies**

 **Draenei**

 **Tauren**

 **Wild Dragons**

 **Harrold's Family**

 **Wife- Alleia Silversong, High Priestess of Elune**

 **Firstborn- James, Dark Templar**

 **Secondborn- Albus, High Templar**

 **Lastborn- Laetri, Sentinel-in-training**

 **PS: If you have any questions feel free either to review or PM me. Ill reply as best as I could.**

 **PPS: Don't worry, its still a Tyrande, Harry story. hihihi just stick with it and you'll see.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

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 _"I love you more than any other, so much more than anything,"_

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Harrold Potter would be lying if he admit that he isn't excited at tonight's festival. According to Alleia, the Feast of Stars would only be held once every century on an evening where the clouds above the sanctum of the Moonglade will part open and reveal the stars at their fullest beauty on the sky.

The Templar Grandmaster can't help but be amazed by the Moonglade. The name is fitting, he had to agree on that. The place is practically bathed in moonlight every full moon and the moonwells itself lighted with the power of Elune giving life to the forest and everything on it. Even though Aiur is a monumental beauty on its own right where it gives the Moonglade had

Adjusting the sword adorned with red rubies the size of coals on the hilt at the belt on his side in front of the mirror. The Templar Grandmaster took stock of his appearance. He knew he should look his best. He would be the one representing the Terrans and he knew it won't do if he appeared less than stellarly acceptable to the people. And yes, there is also the threat that he might be sleeping on the couch for a week if he dressed up badly. Alleia is a taskmaster when it comes to decorum.

Currently he is wearing a black doublet made from the finest silk provided by the Night Elves with gold and dark green trimmings. His pants are also neatly heated and washed by the servants, pressed to perfection and they are also dark green. At his back hung a cape of dark blue with inlays of silver to finish the job and show off his status. However it is the simple golden band of gold with carvings on it showing the deeds of the Templar back when they are still at Earth. It is the Terrans' representation of a crown and a reminder for whoever the Grandmaster is.

Power and humbleness, that is the requirement and an oath of a knight and though they are in a new world now, Harrold kept up the tradition of old of the Templars.

A small knock sounded from the door disturbing Harrold from looking at himself on the man-sized mirror as he turned to stare at the Night-Elven maid who blushed at seeing the Templar Grandmaster, planting her stare at the ground as she spoke.

"The first of the dignitaries have arrived my lord. The High Priestess requests your attendance at the temple," And not waiting for a reply of any sort, she scampered off as fast as her feet could away from him leaving an amused Templar Grandmaster behind.

Harrold merely chuckled as he watched the servant run off. He knew that despite being on his forty's he still look like at his middle twenty's. All of those who had chosen to walk the path of a Dark Templar are granted that blessing. They looked younger than their current old age. In fact if Harrold is honest with himself, he looked more like an older brother for James' instead of looking like his aged father.

"Well I better get on with it," sighed Harrold checking himself once more at the mirror. "Alleia would hurt me if I end up getting late again,"

"Yes you do dearie," replied the mirror in a pitying tone making Harrold chuckle once more as good memories between him and his political wife rose into his consciousness.

Satisfied now with his attire, Harrold left the personal treehouse flat that had been given by the Night Elves for him despite his protests and made his way down to the trunk towards the ground where two Templars are waiting their elegant golden armor polished to the point where it is gleaming despite no light other than the Khydarin crystals embedded on their shoulder pauldrons which gave off a faint blue hue.

"Fred, George," Harrold greeted in recognition to his guards for tonight who had insisted to wear their armor in all pomp and style, even bearing the spears which had Khydarin Crystals also embedded on it.

"Harrold!"

"My man!"

"You look dashing!"

"And same time astonishing!"

"Alleia's!"

"Going to drag you back here!"

"And soon to be screaming!"

"For the whole world to hear!"

Harrold just ignored the jab by the Twins as he beckoned for them to follow him. The two continued their jokes until they entered the temple where they immediately shut up with the teasing as their attention is dragged on staring at the numerous numbers of Kaldorei women who had come from every corner of the Night Elven realm to attend the feast. The fact that they are dressed on traditional Night Elven garb which showed a lot of their assets and hiding a lot made staring a bit difficult to ignore no matter how much honor and self-control the two red-head Templars had. It did not help that as soon as the Elven women noticed the two bachelors, they immediately began giggling flirtirously making comments that would have made Harrold run away blushing if not for the fact that he is used on it already from his beautiful wife.

Turning a blind-eye at the pleased expressions of his guards who reciprocated the attention lavished by the Kaldorei women without falling behind too much from him. Harrold entered the familiar archways of the Temple of Elune where the main celebration will be held. Despite himself, he can't help but smile as he saw his wife sitting there at the middle of the conclave dressed in her formal High Priestess robes looking as beautiful as ever chatting with one of the Priestesses, breaking it off as she then noticed his presence and a beautiful smile graced her face.

"Everyone," spoke Alleia in a loud voice standing up."Let me be the first to welcome Grandmaster Harrold James Potter, the founder of the Alliance and the leader of Terrans," immediately cheers came from everywhere and despite himself, Harrold blushed now that he noticed that the Temple of Elune is filled with numerous Kaldorei women who are cheering for him, and who had come to attend the said feast.

Walking as regal as he hoped to be, Harrold smiled and waved at his well-wishers who are more than enthusiastic on cheering even more louder. At his life before his previous one before he was a Templar, Harrold had snatches of that one where he hated the fame as much as possible and shied away from it as best as he could. What a fool that person was. If Harrold was given a chance, he won't hesitate to travel back time and slap his old self to bring him back to his senses.

Fame is a weapon as dangerous as a sword and an army behind your back. Once you know how to deal and control it, it can have the power to defeat kingdoms and topple down even the most cruel of kings. You may not like it, but that doesn't mean you had to shun it.

As for the Kaldorei, Harrold did not begrudge their favor and goodwill for him. It had taken a lot of effort on his part to make the reclusive race open to the Terrans and to the Terrans only. The White Fleets of Grey Haven have secured their western seas which had been continuously plagued by Naga and the South which had been a major concern of Night Elves for any trespassers were cleared by the Terrans with the forming of the Alliance. Now not only do the Kaldorei have a good warning system in case anyone try to invade them from the South, but they also have allies now to call in case of emergencies. Only the East of Mount Hyjal remain untouched where the snows are knee deep where only the most brave and resilient of the Dark Templars patrolled with some of the younger Taurens who looked at the snowy region as an initiation of some kind.

Harrold was however brought out of his thoughts when a familiar soft figure hugged him and he can't help but smile as the smell of Elderberries filled his nose as he reciprocated the gesture.

"I'm glad you're not light," whispered Alleia to his ear, her warm breath sending tingles on his spine.

"Your threat of the couch is too serious for me not to heed the warning," Harrold joked earning himself a giggle from his wife.

"Come, sit with me,"

Disentangling from her, Harrold made a good show of temporary deafness as the observing Night Elves "Oohd"! and "Ahh'd!" at their embrace as Harrold followed his wife to sit at the middle of the conclave council along with the other Priestesses who gave him either a nod or a smile of acknowledgement as they waited for their guests.

It did not take long for the others to start trickling in. The first one to appear next to Harrold was the delegates of Rohan. Eorl the Young with his wife, Hadaralfa and his sister Heba appeared with six of their guards who threw appreciative glances at the assembled Kaldorei women who cringed at the looks. Apparently the preferences of the said race lean more at the Terrans than the other humans.

The King of the Mark however was in a jolly mood and wasted no time singing praises of the Moonglade and nearly shouting the good news to everyone who would listen that he would soon be a father.

After Eorl, the other members of the Alliance also started trickling in. Cairne with his son Bane who did not bother bringing any guards along with Fleur with the Harpy Queen and another Harpy who looked much like the queen. Harrold would place his bet that it is the queen's sister. Fleur however gave him as usual a frosty bow and for the life of him, Harrold had no idea what he did to make the beautiful blonde woman so cold to him. One day after the political wedding between him and Alleia, the former half-veela had for some reason been distant. Neville suggested that it had been because of jealousy. Harrold did not believe him. There is just no way that Fleur would fall someone like him. And besides, he had Alleia to love now.

A few minutes after the arrival of the Harpies the delegation of the Terrans arrived also which is the largest so far with nearly five hundred people on its entourage along with thirty or so of the newly inducted Draenei (which is mostly composed of women for some reason) on the Alliance.

Harrold had to nearly hide at the back of his chair though as he saw his eldest son alongside with five of the Dark Templars leading the entourage hand in hand with the Draenei he managed to rescue on Draenor who looked as red as a tomato trying her best not to look up as every eye on the temple glued on her with either curiosity and no small amount of envy on the case of the Elven maidens who had tried to snag the eldest of the sibling Potters. She is wearing a lovely dress of white that looked extremely modest, but no less hid her beauty nevertheless. Her tail is twitching nervously behind her and despite himself, Harrold can't help but pity the poor girl. Apparently she had no idea what a womanizer his eldest son is, who by the way looked regal on his Dark Templar attire.

Ignoring Alleia at his side who made a fake sob muttering how grown up their little boy is now. Harrold focused on his next son who is lot more behaved than his firstborn. He got the shock of his life.

Following James, is his younger brother Albus in High Templar robes with two other High Templar and...is that Maieve with him?

Harrold had to blink twice to make sure he is seeing right. Apparently his eyes is proof enough for his brain and if that isn't enough. The surprised gasp of nearly the entire hall is another as the stoic and silent Warden who had never removed her armor for centuries now strode confidently arm in arm with the High Templar Potter with her chin held up high. Her armor is gone and replacing it is a dress made of intertwined grass leaves that well, literally show off the hidden beauty that the Warden had all these years. It showed a large part of her navel and also her bare shoulders. In fact if Harrold is asked, the only thing she is wearing that day is nothing more than a chest piece that only covered her chest while it showed everything else and a long skirt of green and blue. Her long wispy blue and white hair fell into her back on a small wave and her face is as beautiful as her body is. Bands of gold adorned her wrists, and Harrold can't help but imagine what a pair she and his second looked.

Next to follow is his daughter Laetri in Sentinel armor, only cleaned arm in arm with Draco, who had worn robes of navy black. Harrold had to bite his lip to avoid laughing as he saw his daughter with Laetri try to break the very-well gelled hair of the former Malfoy by trying to pull it down. Behind them followed his squire Colin Creevey who looked as if in a daze with Arko'Narin who is also in a Sentinel armor like Laetri. And following them is Neville alongside with his wife Jaelyn Eversong alongside many of the residents of the Grey Haven Elves bearing harps with them. Also a large number of the Templar caste, members of the Judicator Caste and representatives of the Artisan Caste had came for the Feast and it is not long before the Temple of Elune is filled to the brim with people either chatting lively or laughing.

However everyone shushed immediately as Alleia stood up once making sure that every dignitary has finally arrived and though a trickle of stragglers still came now and then, the majority of important people have finally settled down.

"Welcome everyone to the Feast of Stars!" spoke Alleia gesturing into her hand in a welcome gesture. "I can't say in words how honored and happy I feel that everyone had gathered here today for this momentous event held only once every century. So let me welcome you formally," she bowed once before continuing.

"I would also like to say that this is the first official festival heralded ever since the Alliance between our nations are made. And I would like to thank the dignitaries here for making time on joining us Kaldorei on this momentous event. We are many cultures, many kinds, different people, but here we all stand together hand in hand. I would like to say that we Kaldorei feel honored that you had chosen to attend this old tradition of ours. So for tonight, and no more delays. Let the Feast of Stars, begin!"

This time, Harrold watched in awe as his wife raised her hand a blue werelight left her palms soaring over the trees and into the night sky. Immediately there is a burst of blue light and the Templar Grandmaster alongside with everyone else watched in awe as the sky it seemed, open and stars unnumbered are shown in the sky. Living in Earth where everything is polluted, Harrold can't' help but be mesmerized at the beautiful scene. Constellations that he had for some reason known are still there thanks to something echoing in his mind that says "Astronomy", but there are also dozen more that he had never known simply sitting there that he had never witnessed before.

And after that, the feast started.

In Harrold's opinion, it can barely even be called a feast. More like a celebration with wild abandon than the formal call to be called a "feast". The Kaldorei deferred for once to their original nature, feral, wild, dangerous, and beautiful. Once lose, the poor Terran males that had took the chance to attend the said "feast" in their formal attires are unwittingly pulled to the middle of the dance floor to dance either they wanted to or not by Kaldorei women. He had to shake his head as he saw a Zealot, an elite of the Templar practically clawing the ground as three lovesick Elf-maids drag him behind as he cried. Whether it would be tears of joy, or fear, the Grandmaster didn't want to guess. Harrold had to refrain from standing up and intervening as he saw his eldest son having the time of his life as he is practically sandwiched within five elf maids while his current date took the time to bolt off away from the spotlight to stay with her people and the Harpies who took refuge under the table for some reason. His second son on the other hand is saved into being pulled by the presence of Maieve. For some reason, the cold Warden seemed to act like a stone that stop the torrents of Elf-maids that wanted to grab their prize. Colin didn't fare well as he was caught being the tug of war rope by Laetri and Arko'Narin and three other Elves.

Harrold however was brought out of his musings as someone suddenly yanked his arm and he accidentally dropped the goblet of wine that he is holding as he found himself being dragged to the middle of the dance floor by Alleia.

"Alleia, what's-," Harrold stopped himself as he noticed the quite feral look that his wife is supporting currently. It is the same look that she had when they are at bed and dancing the dance of love.

"Come on Harrold, don't tell me you don't want me," purred the Night Elf High Priestess gluing herself to him making Harrold feel dazed. After all this time, he still can't help but appreciate the beauty of his wife. Yeah, he was whipped plain and simple. Nothing more, nothing less.

Surrendering himself completely to her wishes. Harrold found himself moving along with the other guests as he danced with his wife. With the knowledge of dancing, graced into him by his father on his second life. Harrold is barely able to keep up with her as the sound of drums, tambourines and a lot more musical instruments permeate the air. His blood boiled as the feeling of participating on something so native, so basic, so open flooded into his very being, wanting the individual in him to be unleashed without inhibitions of any kind. Alleia in front of him is dancing in a very sensual nature, practically egging him on to grab her and rush her to the nearest clearing and remind her that she is his and it was only his self-control which is ebbing fast with his senses heightened and changed.

It came too late for Harrold to understand that this is the nature of the Feast of Stars, to lose all inhibitions and just be yourself. Just like the stars on the sky being opened to be seen by everyone, so must the individual in them right now must be seen. He nearly laughed at that. Giving up on self-control, Harrold practically pounced on his wife as he kept up with her as she also laughed at his change. Everything else then almost passed like a dream. Harrold would remember later the dance, the escape to the Temple porch side where he made love with his wife still on their robes before going back to dance some more, drink and return to make love again. All in all, Harrold knew that this night would be a one to remember in years to come.

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 _Meanwhile at the side_

"No pauses, no timeouts, and no giving up," offered Eorl watching the two who had accepted the challenge. The serious second born of the Grandmaster, Albus the serious High Templar and the overconfident son of Cairne Bloodhoof, Bane.

"And no reigurtitation," added the young Tauren earning him a lot of cheer on the observers as Albus merely blinked in confusion at everyone.

"So it's a drinking contest?" he asked making everyone cheer and roar even more as they raised their glasses at the two.

"Darnassian wine, strongest and oldest of most Night Elven brew," spoke Maive beside the young High Templar leaning on a pillar while sipping on her mug.

"Last man standing wins!" roared Bane.

"Very well," sniffed Albus in a way a High Templar can only do. "I accept your challenge,"

Eorl merely smiled.

"Very well, in THREE...TWO...ONE...GO!"

The Tauren and the Terran immediately began downing mug after mug of Darnassian wine that are being passed into them, one as regal and proud a High Elf can only do, and the other, the rough bombastic ways that Tauren can only succeed.

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 _At another side_

"Oh you can search far and wide,

You can drink the whole town dry.

But you can never find a beer so brown,

but you can never find a beer so brown,

as the one we drink in our home town.

You can drink those fancy ales,

you can drink em by the flagon.

But the only brew for the brave and true,

come from the Green Dragon!"

The singing was followed by a loud crash making Arko'Narin wince as her date ended up a heap on the floor in a mixture of ale, bread, and something more with Fred and George Weadley who managed to coerce the young Templar into drinking the brown ale of the Rohirrim and got him drunk in no time at all. Ignoring the three drunks laughing on the floor, Arko' strode off to find herself more food and wine when a slender hand touched her shoulder making her turn and blush as she noticed that it was Laetri.

"Colin making a mess of things again I see," commented the beautiful Half-Elf raising an elegan eyebrow at Colin who rolled on his back to stand up and tripped on George's body sending the two laughing on the ground again.

"He's just overenthusiastic," waved Arko' off trying not to blush as her best friend did not release her palm from her face.

"That's good!" beamed Laetri gripping her hand and dragging Arko' with her to a secluded glade. "You can accompany me then,"

"Where?"

Arko' missed completely the mischievous look of her best friend who threw her developing form an appreciative glance. "To a moon well of course. I've always wanted to test both of our flexibilities,"

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 _Back at Albus and Bane_

"That's Twenty-One!" cheered Eorl as he handed another cup to Bane who had wine splattered on his entire chest and fur while Albus looked as regal as ever as the two kept up with one another. Bane looked unsteady at his feet already but Albus retained his poise.

"HEHEHEHEHE!" the Tauren guffawed as he downed number twenty-two now laughing and slapping the table at which a pile of mugs lay used. He was just ready to warn the Tauren at what might happen if he drank too much when he was cut off just as he was about to open his mouth.

"I feel something," Albus' monotone voice spoke raising his hand to his face. Eorl promptly ignored the discreet smile that adorned Maieve's face as the High Templar continued.

"A slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me," his voice held a small awe on it.

"What did I... _hic..._ tell you... _hic..._ ," coughed out Bane in a drunk voice raising a fat wagging finger. "Boy... _hic..._ can't hold his... _hic..._ liquor... _hic_ ," he then went cross-eyed and the massive Tauren crashed back first to the floor much to the delight of the watching Kaldorei as they then dive bombed the surprised High Templar to the floor before Maieve could step in leaving Eorl watching the two with amusement.

"I guess he won then," he spoke to the air and of course, the air didn't answer.

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While the raucous caused by the feast continued at the front. Tyrande at the back discreetly finished dropping the last of the potion to the goblet she had prepared. She took deep breaths. The Priestess had argued with Alleia not to do this, knowing the consequences if she is discovered, but Alleia had been stubborn. So Tyrande had put her foot down and did the boon that her best friend had asked of her. The only reason that Tyrande didn't force her way even more on convincing her best friend on the danger of such an action is the fact that she knew that if it was her on Alleia's shoes. She would have done also the same.

Finishing the touches of the goblet, Tyrande prayed once more to Elune for her friend's life and the wisdom of such an action as she took the goblet and waited for her turn to be called at the back of the Temple.

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Harrold despite himself can't help to erase the shit-eating grin that is currently adorning his face as he stood side by side with Alleia. Their dresses are a bit ruffled but otherwise fine and his wife had been unable to get her hands off him ever since the end of the dancing and the feast where the food is provided followed.

Besides, its not like that he was the only one got laid. Nearly all the Terrans do, and more than one Kaldorei contained a dreamy look while looking at males who went beet red every time. His son James, had lost his belt and someone apparently have stolen his doublet as a souvenir. Even Laetri looked wet and Harrold didn't miss his daughter walking arm in arm with Arko'Narin with dreamy eyes to one another.

Right now though, the final part of the Feast of Stars is about to be commenced. The presentations to be made that would be stocked at the great scroll library of the Night Elves. It is a great tradition held by the Night Elves and being participants of the Feast of Stars, everyone who attended will have to present something.

Harrold remain seated with the conclave as one Kaldorei after the other presented works of art, magic, songs, and poetry. in a hundred ways that he can't understand or deign to understand, but appreciate at the same time.

Cairne offered a scroll of their shamanistic ways, while his son, Bane who had been excused thanks to being knocked out offered a large war axe made by hundreds of hooves that came from the Centaurs that the Bloodhoof tribe killed on the Badlands.

The Harpies contribution on the other hand is a detailed map of the territories that the Alliance occupied on view from the air much to the delight of the commanders who attended.

Eorl brought thirty of the finest horses of the Mark with his sister and these he gave freely to the Kaldorei for breeding purposes and to sate their curiosity on riding such beautiful creatures.

Sestia on the other hand offered a magnificent war horn inlaid with jewels and diamonds. When asked what material the war horn is, the cute Draenei blushed to the roots of her hair and admitted that it was her father's horn. That earned her the appreciation of the Night Elves and the poor girl is passed to one Night Elf after another for an embrace. Of course being who they are, the Night Elves didn't waste the chance to grope the poor Draenei who can challenge a tomato on redness once everyone stopped laughing and she was set down.

Laetri offered to sing and despite himself, Harrold is proud of his daughter as she sang on the dais, entrancing everyone with her voice.

Albus brought a Khydarin crystal shard which he charmed himself and can be chipped off in small pieces and placed on bracelets. This offered a small energy barrier to anyone who wanted to harm the wearer.

James in the only way James can do used the power of him being a Dark Templar to enchant a bouquet of roses to zoom to every Elf-maiden that he either slept or wooed. Harrold and Alleia had to hide themselves as their son gave off playful kisses to the women who cheered for him.

Neville brought a small tree that throws off seeds that transforms into warriors made of wood the moment they make contact on the ground resembling Medival knights that attacked anyone planning to harm a tree.

Draco brought a scroll into which he summarized all the laws of the Alliance species. Everyone mentally agreed that as helpful as his gift is, it is the most boring one.

Tyrande, whom Harrold just noticed recited a beautiful poem and so did Alleia. Harrold had to agree that their works are fantastic with the way everyone had a tear on their eye when they finished.

Finally it was his turn to speak. With encouragement from Alleia, the Templar Grandmaster left his stone seat from the conclave and stood at the middle of the Temple where everyone is watching.

Gulping, Harrold opened his mouth and began.

 _When tomorrow starts without me,_

 _and I'm not there to comfort you,_

 _please know that I still love you,_

 _cause I know you love me too._

 _When tomorrow starts without me,_

 _and you feel lost and blue,_

 _I hope these words I've written_

 _will help to see you through._

 _Someday your pain will ease,_

 _sadness replaced by fond memories_

 _Come tomorrow you will hear_

 _I love you whispered on the breeze._

 _When tomorrow starts without me_

 _cause God has called me home_

 _I turn, blowing a kiss for thee_

 _Sad that you may feel alone._

 _I will miss you tomorrow_

 _as I take one last glimpse_

 _a tear falls from my cheek_

 _I'll be going home._

 _And tomorrow will start without me_

Harrold despite himself blushed as everyone looked close to tears as he finished his poem. He had to admit, he made his pome for his wife knowing that he would soon be leaving her and their children in a few years when the power earned to be a Dark Templar is paid.

Harrold is however unprepared as his wife left her own throne, striding towards him, her heels clacking on the marble stone of the Temple, the silence making every move she makes heard by everyone as she faced him and raised her head to place a gentle kiss before bowing her forehead to his.

"You're not leaving me Harrold. Not if I had anything to say about it," she whispered. Harrold only smiled sadly at her knowing that it would be nothing more than wishful thinking but he didn't dare break her bubble of hope as she strode forward to everyone. Already the light of the sun is shining and the stars are disappearing slowly on the horizon.

"Thus we end this centuries' Feast of Stars', I want to thank everyone one last time for attending this feast. Priestess Tyrande if you will," Alleia declared as Tyrande stepped forward holding a steaming goblet of wine that she handed to Alleia. Harrold did not miss that Tyrande gave Alleia a pointed look and their hands that held the goblet seemed to stiffen for a moment as Tyrande left far too quickly when Alleia's face hardened for a second as she turned back to the crowd.

"As these feast is sponsored by not only us Kaldorei and the Alliance, I would like to invite the Grandmaster to share this Goblet of Peace with me, to bless the next century under Elune's blessing till the next feast comes,"

Harrold watched as Alleia took a sip that drained half the goblet before pausing for a second and handing it to him. The Grandmaster didn't waste any time also draining the remaining half. It tastes like spiced cider and he can't help but wonder at the uneasiness that seemed to bother his wife. He could see it on every muscle twitch of hers. Once done, he handed back the empty Goblet now to Alleia, who supported a look of...is that relief? As she accepted the now empty cup before addressing the crowd once again.

"Thank you for coming once again. For Azeroth! For Azeroth and the Alliance!"

"FOR AZEROTH! FOR THE ALLIANCE!" the cheer went from one throat to another. None knew that that cheer would be needed on the next years to come and this feast would be labeled as one of the most memorable in history.

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 **So Hello readers. Hope ya like it. Please Review and Fav. I know that I don't have many supporters on this story. But as I promised, I would complete my story. And I will. This is not AU and would be on the Warcraft Timeline. Timetable on this story is held before the Orcs came and during the Orcs, arrival when the Feast finished. Please guys. review and give me your opinions. This is my first story as an author. And I would really want it to succeed. I may not be as good as the previous author, but at least Im trying.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

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 _To the sea, to the sea, the white gulls are crying,_

 _the west wind flies, and the white foam is flying._

 _West! West away! Do you hear them calling?_

 _The voices of my people that have gone before me,_

 _and have left the woods that bore me._

 _For my days are ending and my years failing,_

 _I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing._

 _Sweet are the voices of the Lone Isle calling._

 _Sad is the song of the last isle falling._

 _.._

 _.._

 _.._

 _Two months after the Feast of Stars_

White sails rose into the wind like a sun rising on the dawn as a hundred ships prepared. People bustled into its decks, a combination of Terran, Tauren and Night Elf running around carrying an assortment of packs, boxes and a lot more things that can only signify to anyone observing that these ships will be making a long journey with all the things they are preparing. All in all the harbor looked like a giant beehive as the docked ships are filled to the brim with necessities.

Green eyes bore down over the lighthouse watching the busiest day the Grey Haven ever had. He missed these place. He had forgotten the times when he had worked hand in hand with Neville and Draco with the other soldiers on building this fledgling port many years ago for the traumatized Night Elves when the Terrans are new to this world. He could still remember their rough armor that in his opinion, now looked aesthetically downtrodden compared to the pomp of the Templars now.

A small shout made the Templar Grandmaster look down at his son James' running off before disappearing in a flash of crystals, easily avoiding the dock worker Elf whose butt he pinched.

Harrold had to shake his head at his eldest. For someone so powerful and skilled. James is the exact opposite of how a Dark Templar should act like.

Shaking his thoughts about his son of, Harrold focused instead at the assembled ships. He just hoped they are enough at the moment. The warning of the Druids and the Greybeards about Fel presence on Azeroth he heeded correctly. The warnings of the insectoid woman about the doom of this world echoed on his ears like it was just yesterday, and Harrold can't help but shudder as he felt the coils of fate roll over his veins. He had joined the Druids on meditation, and despite the difference of distance between Kalimdor and Azeroth, he could feel the presence of the Forbidden magic at that land. That's the reason why he assembled this fleet that could contain at least five thousand put together, where four thousand are capable of fighting. He had no idea what they are facing, and Harrold would want to arrive there, prepared.

Thankfully the Alliance understood his reasons. As it was said before, only fools ignore the warnings of a Druid or a Greybeard. Everyone at the Alliance know that already. And the threat of world ending hypothetically speaking is enough to send most of the leaders into a tizzy during the council when Harrold informed them of his plan to go to Azeroth to deal with the problem before it reached their shores, and if possible, set up an Alliance outpost there or city in order to had a presence on that region. The other Alliance members of course are more than happy to agree.

Not everyone is happy about it though.

Harrold in fact got an earful from Alleia when he told her about his plans of going himself and even insisted that she come along with him. The Templar Grandmaster had to restrain her with magic to stop her rant and strap the High Priestess to a chair as he let her calm down before logically pointing out that with him gone, she would be the de facto leader of the Alliance and no one but her could command the populace with such charisma. Alleia at first fumed, and didn't listen, but finally her sense of duty caught up with her and she agreed on the reason though that he brings Tyrande and Maieve along with him since their children would also be going. Harrold had no argument to that, so he put his foot down on that one.

He's just thankful that Alleia didn't broke him at the fact that her children would be going with him on this journey which holds unknown dangers. James is a Dark Templar and it is his responsibility to follow after his father to be the next Grandmaster. Besides he is also no pushover when it comes to fighting. Albus on the other hand would also follow since he wants too with five High Templars who had volunteered. Laetri is still learning under Maive's tutelage and since Maieve is going with them, Laetri also is. In fact out of them all, Laetri is the most excited about the trip, not worried that they would be dealing with demon magic soon. Not to mention the chance that she's going to be with Arko' who is also going with them.

Harrold had to sigh as he watched the ships almost ready to depart with the way the crewmen are giving signals to the harbor personnel with many a wave. Large numbers of families had also gathered at the docks to say farewell to their love ones. Most of these are Kaldorei females who found mates on Terran males. Normally Harrold wanted nothing more than to let his men stay, however it is their duty as Templar to protect their loved ones and Harrold knew they must uphold their oath no matter how hard the road is. He sympathized with the families though. Alleia last night had given him the best farewell gift she could on the bed, and stuffed him with enough memories about her that he won't be enticed by another woman for a year. Harrold never expected that a woman so composed but kind, beautiful and soft as the High Priestess could be a wild cat in bed. Even thinking about it now made Harrold let off a small grin like a loony as he recalled fond memories of her. Every time they mated, it seems like Alleia knew how to make him fall in love with her all over again.

Shaking his head to ward off the thoughts, Harrold took the knife at his side and hitched it at the air spiralling down below. The only indication that the Templar Grandmaster has been at the tower is the small crystal shards left behind after his teleportation.

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"I'm going to miss you Tyra,"

"You too Allie," smiled Tyrande as she embraced her sister-in-heart once again as the two of them stood a little off to the docks while the rest of the expedition members are preparing the last items for the ships.

"You're sure you don't want to say goodbye to Harrold again?" asked Alleia looking at the prow of the tallest ship where the cape of the Grandmaster is swishing and the tall figure is discreetly watching over them, waiting for Tyrande to board. Already his children alongside Arko' and Maive have boarded if Albus' pissed off shouts was any indication since Jame's stole his helmet again.

"I love them you know," spoke Alleia making Tyrande look at her best friend who are supporting tears and trying hard to hide them. "All of them, my children, Harrold, all of them. I never thought that I'll love again after my parents died that day during the First War, but here I am having a family of my own.

"Oh Allie," Tyrande pulled a comforting hug on her sister patting her back gently as she dissolved into sniffles on Tyrande's shoulders.

"Bring them back home safe Tyra, please. Bring them back home safe to me. They would be entering another world that is different from our own and they don't have the luxury to run back home as they used to.

Tyrande just sighed pulling away, but not before placing a kiss a the brow of her best friend. "I'll do my best Allie, you know that. Those three ingrates that you brought to life have wormed their way into my heart and even if you didn't ask. I would protect them too,"

The Priestess of Elune tried to hide her smile as it seemed that Alleia even more increased her sobbing. She had to admit, her best friend didn't lose an inch of her beauty despite mated to the Grandmaster and bearing him three children. Tyrande had worried that when they drugged the drink of Harrold during the Feast of Stars with the concoction that Alleia had brewed, something bad would happen (like the Grandmaster fainting), as a result of the concoction spreading on his system, negating the damage done by the magic of the Khydarin crystals and making him immortal like the elves. Alleia would have been busted there and then and dragged off to the chopping block for breaking the most ancient of their rules and desecrating Nordassil with her own magic. It was just pure luck that no one had noticed...yet.

"So, you'll be staying here then," spoke Tyrande sparing a glance at the conclave of Priestesses waiting at the docks of the shore who had also waved their farewells for their mates and waited for the High Priestess before going back to Aiur.

"Yes, someone needs to keep the beds and food warm until you all come back," chuckled Alleia.

"Glad to see that your sense of humor haven't disappeared Allie," smiled Tyrande. "Are you sure that you don't want to say goodbye once more to Harrold?" she asked looking at Alleia and the figure at the top of the ship looking down at them.

"No," waved Alleia off. "We've already said our goodbye's last night and I believe that the memories will stay with him until he can return to our bed again,"

Despite herself, Tyrande can't help but raise an eyebrow at her friend having a bit of a difficult time accepting how different Alleia had changed with Harrold in her life. She had gotten more confident. The old Alleia in their younger days would have squeaked and blushed to the roots of her hair at the mention of sex and every time they went off to bathe at the moonwells, Alleia would usually beg her to go first and check if anyone's around to prevent being ambushed by sex-deprived Kaldorei before allowing herself a dip. They may be Elves, but they are a bit feral after all. Tyrande can't help but think.

"Very well Allie, I guess this is goodbye," Tyrande sighed tiredly hugging her friend once more. "Do be careful and make sure that the Alliance still stands when we get back,"

The Priestess of Elune merely laughed as Alleia threw her a playful swat that she avoided.

"Prat!" hissed Alleia smiling before embracing her once again. "And you be careful also out there Tyra. You're my best friend, but I look to you as a sister. I don't want to be waiting on this harbor a few months from now only to be told that you were accidentally eaten by some kind of creature that we didn't know about,"

"Well, whatever creature that might eat me will choke on my sexiness," replied Tyrande with a smirk making Alleia roll her eyes only. Tyrande felt good, its good that she is able to express herself like this. No ranks, no limits, no mentioning of stations. Just a chat between two old friends.

However Tyrande suddenly froze as she felt something wet, soft and warm press to her lips and she nearly pushed the offender away if not for her pulling out immediately leaving Tyrande standing there blinking, confused and dumbstruck as she stared at her best friend who had just kissed her.

"I know your secret Tyra," spoke Alleia in seriousness and a bit of shadow covered her eyes. "I know that you loved my mate and would have tried to gain his affections if you were not burdened then by your responsibilities of Arko' when you returned from Rohan," she shuddered as if saying the next words are quite painful for her. "And I know that you loved him,"

Tyrande blinked again. She had no idea how Alleia knew about her deepest secret fears, but she was now terrified. Alleia won't dare hurt her and kill her, in fact the best she can do is give her a cold shoulder. No, what Tyrande is afraid of, is the fact that their relationship with each other, centuries of friendship and bond will be broken after this.

"Alleia it's not what you think," pleaded Tyrande in a whisper fearing anyone that might hear them. "Yes, I love him then and still do now. But you are his mate Alleia. He chose you and not me. Don't make these complicated. I don't plan to snatch him under you on this journey or anytime afterwards. You are my best friend and sister. I won't steal your mate away from you. Not now, and not ever,"

When Alleia didn't deign to answer, Tyrande used the last ace up her sleeve. "You had children already for Elune's sake Alleia! You've seen how Harrold loved his children. There's no way he'll leave me for you, even if I do get tempted to steal him from you,"

"So you loved him still then?" Alleia simply asked making the tongue of Tyrande stuck at the top of his mouth as the decision to lie or to be truthful is laid down in front of her.

Tyrande for a second wanted to strangle her friend for putting her on this predicament. She knew as much as everyone else that Alleia can spot a lie in the blink of an eye; thus trapping her literally that she had no choice but to spout the truth now.

"You're really clever and mean you know that," Tyrande glared at Alleia whose lips curled up a bit in a small smile in recognition to her answer. "Fine! I love him. Happy?"

"Oh very," smirked Alleia, surprising Tyrande seeing no light of hostility on her face. In fact, is that satisfaction she sees?

"You gave up your happiness for me Tyra, now let me share some of mine to be your own," spoke Alleia leaning to the side of her head and spoke in a whisper. "You can try to win his heart on this trip. I am willing to share. And don't act all noble and that Tyra. We're Kaldorei, its not uncommon for our males to have more than one mate,"

"B-b-b-b-bu-but," spluttered Tyrande unable to believe her ears at what her best friend had just said and part of her mind insisted that she is in a crazy dream. There's no way that this is happening right now. She had after all for twenty years slowly come to accept that the handsome Templar Grandmaster belonged to Alleia, and Alleia alone. She had seen their happiness, their respect towards one another despite the reasons why they wed were political. She had seen the love they shared and how successfully they raised their children to adulthood right. She had seen how how Alleia had treasured every second of Harrold's existence. To say that she's willing to share him with her is Tyrande's greatest hope and dream, that she can only imagine in fantasy. So no, there's no way she's believing what's happening to her right now. This must be an illusion. Must have been those funny mushrooms Arko' and Laetri stuffed her food with two days ago.

Alleia must have noticed Tyrande's expression of disbelief rising for she gave off a faint sigh though her cheeks are blushing pink on her pale violet skin. "I guess you need proof that I am serious eh, Tyra?" and before Tyrande could protest, Alleia grabbed her face and crushed her lips to her own forcing her tongue deep into Tyrande's mouth as she gasped making the Priestess of the Moon involuntary moan at the soft and gentle lips of her century long best friend as her tongue explored Tyrande's mouth completely. She felt herself closing her eyes, tuning out the cheers and hoots of everyone around her as she focused on the taste of her friend which is Elderberries as they played tonsil tennis for a while.

When the need for air rose, Tyrande reluctantly pulled away trying not to think how kinky the kiss is, before horror came to her psyche that she had just kissed Alleia in public in front of everyone and in full view of her mate and her children whom she wasted no time staring at on the ship who had stony expressions on their faces as her eyes met theirs before returning to that of the High Priestess who held a mischievous light on them.

"So,do you believe me now?" smiled Alleia like a proud mockingbird.

Tyrande didn't know whether to cry with relief or fear that she would be on board a ship with Alleia's family who had seen the whole thing.

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The creak of the wood, the sound of the sail being raised on the wind, the smooth splashing of the oars moving over the water as mariners labored to bring the massive ship out of the harbor is a rhythmic music at the ears of the Templar Grandmaster.

The sea has always been a fascination for him. Its color, its peaceful look a mask for the rage that it might cause to those whose judgement it did not find worthy. He still haven't forgotten the first time he met the trials of the sea.

It seems just like a past memory now. Him, a young aspiring Templar heading off to Jerusalem to help fight the Saracen marauders that dared encroach the holy land. Unfortunately the first trial for him is the sea where he took a ship which compared to the Swan ships that the Grey Havens fielded, are nothing more than sticks that barely float.

Until now Harrold never forgot that journey and the terror that it brought with it. From Acre, he sailed to Jerusalem and halfway through the trip, they got embroiled to a squall that shaped up to a massive sea storm that nearly upended the vessel which can barely be called a ship. Harrold had to cling for dear life then as he repeatedly recited his vows and prayed that he will survive as he felt himself being thrown into all directions, as baggages and people either got thrown overboard or accidentally injured on the wooden beams that cracked on every splash of the wave making Harrold believe that the ship would be snapped in half and he would be brought down to the oceans' depths.

However right now, Harrold fel safe and sure. The ships of white with a swan as its headprow are nothing compared to the assortment of wood mushed together in his previous life. The female Kaldorei shipwrights is anything but perfectionists when it came to their arts that even the best of the Artisan caste cannot compare.

The designs of the ships are elegant like all Elven crafts. Its wood made from the trees of Ashenvale painted white. Combined with the sturdy designs of Terran shipwrights, the Kaldorei refurbished everything and instead of the design of original ships where they push through waves in force; the swan ships glide with it, making travel faster and a lot more comfortable. In aesthetic design it is not certainly lacking. Able to field at least a fifty men snugly and had room to spare, the Swan ships are the default ships of the Alliance designed either to fight or simply to ferry people around.

But as the ship they are currently in right now left harbor, Harrold ignored the astonished exclamations of Rohirrim, Draenei and Kaldorei who chose to accompany them on this trip as he stood on the bow, his green eyes on his wife or mate. Of course he had seen her interaction with Tyrande and he isn't sure whether to be pleased or not. He still remembered the first time he and Alleia discuss Kaldorei culture on that private garden of hers on the Moonglade on the second day the Terrans arrived on Azeroth when he is still young.

 _Flashback_

 _"So do Kaldorei marry?" ask Harrold trying hard to focus at the face of the High Priestess and not at the beautiful limbs she had that are so being exposed by the flimsy gown that she is wearing._

 _"Marry?" blinked those blue and silver eyes in confusion making Harrold go red at the thought of his next words._

 _"You know...when a man or woman is in love or attracted to one another and have...,"_

 _"Sex?" finished Alleia for him making Harrold blush hard and immediately found out how interesting the patch of dirt in front of him is._

 _"Yes,"_

 _"Why are you talking about it as if its the hardest thing you do?" asked the Night Elf in confusion who noticed his change of expression._

 _"It does not bother you?" quipped Harrold. He had never met anyone willing to talk about sex so open before._

 _"It does, but with your reaction, it is as if you had eaten a stone," she smiled making Harrold blush at how beautiful she just is._

 _"Well, for us humans, or Terrans as we like to call ourselves. Not that talking about it disgusts us. Its more like a private affair. In our culture you see, we only err...bond with one person only and stay with him or her for the remainder of our lives," explained Harrold._

 _"Oh, you mean mating," giggled Alleia covering her mouth with a slender hand. "And that's the weirdest culture I've heard. We Kaldorei don't marry. We take mates. We stay with them as long as we have feeling at them until the feelings we have with each other pass off and we leave him or her to seek another one. And besides where's the fun in staying with one woman only when you can have two or three? And what do you do if you are tired of the person you are having?"_

 _"Well...I guess you just have to..to suck it up then," answered Harrold a bit airily. He has been quite flustered when Alleia told him about having more than one mate here. For a second he had imagined sandwiched between two beautiful Kaldorei and that's a good vision until he shook it off before the High Priestess noticed little Harry starting to wake up on his pants. However a sudden thought made Harrold open his mouth again._

 _"What about if you have children? Do you still leave your partner then?"_

 _The High Priestess' mouth merely thinned to a line._

 _"It has been many generations ever since a Kaldorei youngling was born. But in the old days before the Long Vigil, having a child is the most ultimate act of love. Our legends say that Elune only bestows that gift whose love is powerful with one another that can last centuries. However in the case that the feelings of the parents with one another became cold, the child is given leave to go to which parent it desired most,"_

 _Flashback end_

Harrold remained rooted to the spot watching his wife. He hated to admit it, but he loved her to the point of dying. Not only because she was insanely beautiful, but she's kind, wise, powerful and above all, know when to put him into place when he became either to arrogant or proud. In fact if Harrold admit it to himself, it was because of her efforts and advice that the Alliance is progressing fastly. The fact that he's seen her kissing Tyrande just now created a deep set of fear inside him. He's already forty years old and the fear that she might replace him now made him weak at the knees.

Not that he would deprive her if she wanted to, it was her right and Harrold above all merely wanted her to be happy. If he's tired of him and wanted to leave. He wo0uld willingly let her go, He just hoped that she won't be a stranger to their children then.

As the ship pulled out of the harbor slowly along with the others, Harrold felt a tightening on his throat as the image of Alleia slowly dwindle away along with the docks of the Grey Havens. Her silver hair which she used on the outside clearly still shining like a beacon on the land. For a moment he got an irrepressible urge to jump and be back at her side until he felt his children stand also beside him watching the image of their mother dwindling.

The Templar Grandmaster had to remind himself that he isn't going on this expedition in an adventure of any kind that can alleviate his boredom and such. No, he's doing this for the Alliance, for the innocent people that had joined it and have trusted their safety and the security of their lives at his palms. The burden of a leader. He's also doing this for his family. If the warnings of that insectoid woman is real many years ago, it would associate with this demon magic now. Oblivion is coming and Harrold will be damned before he allowed his wife be sucked on the vortex of darkness without him trying his best to shut it down first.

Fondly he still remembered the first night when they became husband and wife.

 _Flashback_

 _"Hey Harrold,"_

 _"My lady,"_

 _The two merely stood there uneasy as they stared at the floors in front of them. The marriage feast had just finished and tonight is their honeymoon where they must commemorate their marriage. To say that Harrold is nervous would be an understatement, especially the fact that his aforementioned wife is illegally beautiful. He felt he could stare at her face for days on end and he hated to admit it, but he had developed a massive crush for Alleia ever since he met her. Now with her pregnant with his child by accident, he isn't sure if this is one big blessing or a massive curse. The fact that a very beautiful woman that he haven't courted became his wife in a few minutes and not to mention that it is also the leader of an aforementioned people, made his head spin until now._

 _A soft touch brought Harrold back to the present as he saw that Alleia had bridged the gap between them. He nearly had to turn to hide his approval of her as his eyes drank her body, which is covered in a white night gown that failed to hide anything of her as he stood there in front of her._

 _He could see how tense she is, and knew that she was as nervous as what they are about to do as he was. He can't help but gulp as her scent invaded his nostrils, the smell of fresh leaves in the middle of autumn. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her and be done with it. He knew they must have intercourse tonight to prove to the servants that they now belonged to one another and the pregnancy that Alleia had would then be legalized and celebrated instead of being scoffed at._

 _"Alleia,"_

 _"Harrold," she didn't say anything more as she daintily raised her toes and plant a gentle kiss on his lips nervously._

 _Harrold didn't know what happened then. It seemed that something of him snapped and he can barely remember anything on the haze that followed. Him pressed to her, their lips meeting trying to outdo one another. Heck, he never knew that Night Elves can bend that way even. If there's one word that he can describe the High Priestess other than beautiful, it was flexible. Then in the end , the two of them are lying there bathed on moonlight tired and sweating on the bed with her above him as naked as the day they were born._

 _"Alleia,"_

 _"Harrold,"_

 _No words are said that night as Alleia pressed herself to him. He could see the tears on her gentle eyes as he held her. He loved her then. He could also feel the prickly sensations on his eyes. At that moment then he loved her. He loved her with all his heart as he pulled her to him drinking in her beauty, her personality. He could see it all as she lay there arms draped around his chest while her body is also as pressed to him as close as possible as if clinging to him is her lifeline. Everything about her is barred to him then, the good and the bad. And vice-versa for her. And for the first time in her life, two souls intertwined by fate, one that didn't belong there, and one that isn't supposed to exist are bound under Elune's grace._

 _"Harrold,"_

 _"Alleia,"_

 _Two pairs of eyes met, and Harrold can no longer help it as he kissed her gently on the forehead one more time merely watching at the moon on the sky with her in silence before finally plucking up the courage to say the words that felt overused on many worlds. But hat the power to save them nevertheless when said correctly by the soul._

 _"I love you,"_

 _Flashback End_

The Templar Grandmaster was brought out of memory lane and immediately it took all he had not to choke and fall down to cry as the visage of his wife is no longer present. All he could see is a green smudge where Vroengard is supposed to be. His children had left him and he is alone at the prow as the sun sets down and the full moon slowly started to rise. Unconciously he began to clasp the necklace crescent made of moonstone that his wife had given him last night as her gift to remember her.

 _"I look to the sky and sea,_

 _how painful love can be._

 _A sword that can break stone,_

 _same as the heart's grown._

 _Tis' love that made me wish I am at her side,_

 _not on some far country where death and darkness reside._

 _I still see her, my moon, my guiding light,_

 _oh how she lights up the world, so clear and bright._

 _As fragrant as a tree in the rise of dawn,_

 _I can still see her with her flowers, standing at the lawn._

 _But now I open my eyes and all I see is blue,_

 _leaving her I already began to rue._

 _But for Hearth and Home, I must harden this heart of mine,_

 _For Aiur! For the Alliance! I must keep my feelings in line."_

 _-Harrold James Potter, Templar Grandmaster_

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 **Hope ya like this chapter. Guys, please help me by expressing opinions and how do you want the story to go. Anyway please review so that I will know your reactions and well, encourage me a bit to continue on and don't forget the fave and follow button.**

 **PS: I know this chapter is more fluff. But hey! It's a romance story right? hihihi**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

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 _"A good name is better than gold,"_

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"And this mage tells me how wonderful the gardens there is. You must know, Archmage Antonidas himself wrote the letter to me inviting me to Dalaran and I can't help but be thrilled at how considerate he is for even taking the effort on penning me when there are so many demands of his time. I can't wait for the message from him to finally invite me there. I'm so excited. And there's this mage in training, Rhonin. He's so kind and handsome. He had even left a flower at my bag when I'm not looking. Oh he's so sweet,"

Alleria Windrunner, current Ranger General of Silvermoon tried to tune out the rantings of her sister which had gone on ever since they left Quel'Thalas. Even though she's at the head of the column and her sister is somewhere at the back, her long ears twitched in annoyance as it registered every word coming out from her sister's mouth.

"Quite full isn't she?" the amused voice of Lirath spoke beside her making Alleria scowl even more at her younger brother who is dressed on the colors of a High Elf swordsman, the designs that of colored copper and gold with eagle's wings as a helmet.

Right now, the sixty or so members of the Elven caravan rode in silence as they made their way to Stormwind. It is the daily turn of the yearly council when kingdoms like Lordaeron, Gilneas and lesser tribes and chiefs gather there to share common council and address conflicts with one another to prevent war.

Alleria truly never cared for this yearly councils. For her, humans are no different from a very interesting deer, their lives fleeting and short, and are not important enough to record on her memory. However her King, Anasterian for some reason thought otherwise and here she was right now escorting the thirty-five or so dignitaries that are sent to attend the meetings.

Almost her entire family is going also. The only male in their family, Lirath who is an aspiring Elf Paladin, her younger Sylvanas who is fastly rising on her career as an Elven Ranger of the Farstriders, and Vereesa, the youngest of them all who is also a Ranger and ambassador in training on the floating city of Dalaran soon.

Normally Alleria would never agree to bring her family this far south. But Lirath is having room sickness with the Elven army having nothing better to do at the moment, and Sylvanas needed to experience traveling the field. As for Vereesa, she's simply going for the sake of seeing the sights.

"I wish she would shut up," moaned Alleria softly in despair to Lirath who chuckled.

"I do hope to meet this Rhonin guy soon so I could put the fear of the Legion on him. He sounds like a prick to me, and I don't want my dear sister falling for a mortal anytime soon,"

"Don't say such things Rhonin!" reprimanded Alleria upon hearing her brother mention the Legion.

"Oh come Leria," whined the swordsman (or elf). "Don't be such a prude and remove that stick up your ass. It's just a joke, and it's not like the Legion would suddenly appear out of thin air every time I mention it,"

"Stick up my ass huh?" Alleria raised an eyebrow in question turning to the side to stare at her brother on the eyes. "Now that you mention it now though, I believe that I have seen you eyeing my rear more than necessary a few times on this trip,"

Alleria smirked inside as Lirath choked and spluttered at her words trying to look at anything or anyone but her. "Eeeww! Why would stare at your ass? It's not like it's nice. It has even wart on it. What male would want to look at that?"

SMACK!

"HEEEELPP!" Lirath yowled clutching his butt as he rode ahead of the guards of the caravan ducking on the saddle as Alleria sent another arrow over his ear. "SOMEBODY HELP!"

"COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT! DON'T YOU DARE TELL LIES!" the furious voice of Alleria echoed on the nearby street as she rode after her brother, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

The Rangers guarding the caravan merely chuckled as they watched the infamous swordsman, Lirath Windrunner running for his life being chased by his very irate sister. The trip to Stormwind has been boring and monotone and a distraction like this is more than welcome on breaking the ice for the traveling elves. The antics of the Windrunner family has been their only source of entertainment on the road.

"Lirath! Sylvanas! Come back!" wailed Vereesa horrified to see both of her older siblings riding off ahead to a hill rise and disappearing from view.

"Oh don't worry little princess," Farrel, the commander of the Elven guard that didn't belong to the Rangers. "Lady Alleria and Lirath are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, its not like we would be attacked, this close to Stormwind after all,"

"Please, Sylvie," the youngest Windrunner looked at her remaining sister with big doe eyes making the Ranger sigh before running off to the rise of the hill after her two elders, disappearing from the sight of the others also.

"I hope they are okay," sniffled Vereesa looking over the rise where her sisters and brother have disappeared at.

Farrel only snorted. "With Lady Alleria around, I doubt anyone could touch us on this journey,"

Meanwhile after chasing her brother's horse with her own futilely. for the last ten minutes, Alleria had cooled down enough tha she joined Lirath on an unspoken agreement to patrol the surrounding paths where their caravan will pass with Lirath on lead. Taking only a fair moment to finish their rounds and get back on the slopes below rocks on the main path, Alleria was just ready to call it off for them and return to their main group when Lirath's horse snorted and bucked as if panicked.

"Lirath, what's going on? Is there a problem?" asked Alleria riding behind her brother who is trying to calm the frightened horse.

"I'm not sure," answered the High Elven swordsman patting his horse's flanks with one hand to calm down the terrified creature. "Faelwen, calm down," chided the warrior, but the horse is having none of it and whinnied loudly, balking and tossing its head as it neighed in protest on its reins.

"He never acted like this before," grunted Lirath holding on the reins for dear life. "I wonder why is he-,"

"RAAAWWRRR!" an inhuman growl erupted suddenly from the rocks above the mountain path, and two elves barely had the time to look up at the source of the sound when a large blur of brown fur, muscles and sinew came zipping from above burying its massive claws on the flanks and neck of Lirath's horse, piercing muscle, sinew and bone sending the both horse and rider crashing to the ground, the horse dead on impact the moment it touched the ground.

The High Elf swordsman however flopped inelegantly like a fish, dazed and disoriented as he struggled groggily on his feet only to stare at the face of a massive wolf bearing a rider of some kind that looked as wide as two humans and ugly as hell with tusks with a collection of skulls at its neck as a necklace. Its muscles seemed to bulge from it showing its massive physique and its green skin are covered by sweat, grime and dirt.

"Lirath watch out!" called out Alleria in warning trying to get her horse under control to help her brother, but it is to no avail.

Lirath took one look at the wolf only a few steps away from him and screamed as it finished the last distance between him and it, biting him in half, shaking the dead and bloody body a couple of times before throwing it away as it focused its beady eyes on Alleria.

"NOOO!" cried Alleria in despair as she saw her brother fell, his limp and deformed body covered in blood through the dented armor on the ground. Immediately the High Elf's concern and fear turned to rage as she focused with hate filled eyes at the wolf that just made his brother monster chow.

Instinct made her hand immediately grasp the long sword strapped at the side of her horse. It is a simple cavalry sword provided for Elven Rangers so that they can fight on their mounts when needed and can be a substitute for Light Cavalry when needed in times of dire need like these right now.

"YAH!" the sound of sword leaving the sheathe are clearly heard from the clearing as Alleria swiped at the green skin who chuckled the moment its eyes saw her.

Easily parrying the sword stroke she made with a crude hammer, the green skin urging its wolf closer to Alleria's horse who whinnied and balked to evade the slobbering mess leaving the wolf's mouth as it eyes the horse hungrily. The continued shying of the horse forced Alleria's moves to strike clumsily against her opponent and she felt sick knowing that these beast is simply playing with her and not taking her seriously. Any attack from him that could connect with her would send her flying off the saddle in one go.

Alleria was still contemplating how to deal with an enemy that outmatched her thanks to their mount when the sound of a bow releasing is heard and without warning, a yellow feathered arrow struck the wolf's head out of nowhere, killing it instantly and trapping the Orc half in its saddle on the ground as it crashed to its side.

Alleria just had enough time to turn around when she saw her younger sister Sylvanas running with a knife drawn to the struggling orc who roared in defiance once more before Sylvanas cut its throat with one swipe of her knife.

"A scout!" hissed the Ranger looking at Alleria. "Go warn the others!" she ordered to her distraught sister who spared a glance at the corpse of their brother whom Sylvanas also noticed, her face crumpling a bit at the sight of their fallen brother before morphing to a stern expression as she turned to her older sister.

"I'll take care of Lirath, go!"

Forced by the tone of her sister's voice, Alleria pushed her horse back to the direction of the caravan, keeping the sudden loss of her beloved brother deep inside her psyche at the moment. There would be a time for mourning later, not today. Riding swiftly on her charger, Alleria isn't surprised seeing Farrel riding towards her with the rest of the caravan milling nervously as the captain of the guard met her atop his horse with a grim face. Alleria isn't surprised, they must have heard that Greenskin's roars already.

"What is it?! What do you see?!" demanded the Captain, the moment Alleria got within ten steps in front of him.

"We're under attack!" yelled Alleria as she rode past him, while explaining at the same time. "It is not some time of species I've seen before. Greenskins, larger than two humans put together riding wolves. We need to get the caravan out of here!"

To his credit, the captain of the guard in front of her remained impassive before turning to the caravan where the dignitaries and the other non-combat High Elves are slowly starting to panic as word got out that they are under attack.

"By the Light!"

"We are under attack!"

"What do we do?!"

"Who's attacking us?!"

"All riders at the head of the column! Rangers! Stay with the group and make sure that they remain safe!" snapped Farrel as Elven Riders who had been catatonic in boredom walking beside their horses, moved with precision as they mounted their horses, marshalling quickly beside the Elven Captain; while Rangers moved themselves to the sides of the caravan like ghosts, bows materializing on their hands.

While Farrel was busy throwing out orders left and right while keeping the civvies from completely losing their heads and running off. Alleria took the moment to ride to her youngest sister who is helping an Elven Rider climb up a horse. She perked up the moment Alleria came into view.

"You must lead the people to the end of this valley where an outpost of Stormwind soldiers await. And make haste!" ordered Alleria to the last Windrunner whose face morphed to that of distaste and disbelief.

"I can fight!"

"No!" snapped Alleria. "I won't lose another sibling. Lirath's gone! You must do this...for me," finished Alleria blinking back her tears at the pain of her lost brother. Ignoring the horrified expression of her sister, Alleria nudged her horse back to the head of the column where at least twenty Elven Riders are now gathered hearing her sister bark orders to the rest of the caravan behind her.

"We make to the lower hills! Stay together!"

 _"That's my girl,"_ thought Alleria wishing her sister all the luck as she rode after Farrel who had just gestured to the Elven riders to follow him back to where she had found the Greenskin, the thunder of their horses' hooves nearly shaking the ground as they rode over the slope that protected the slow moving caravan.

"Alleria! Captain Farrel!" the voice of Sylvanas met them as they turned to see the Ranger running towards then with her bow at her back and the quiver at her back, empty with arrows.

Before Alleria could call out to her sister, her blood suddenly turned to ice as out of the woods erupted thirty or such Greenskins riding large wolves, who snarled loudly snapping at one another before focusing on the escaping High Elf. Immediately they bounded towards her and Alleria heard Sylvanas yelp as the wolves closed the distance between her and them in bounds forcing her speed to be redoubled trying to reach the Elven Riders. It is obvious that she won't make it in time at all.

"We need to charge," the voice of Farrel whispered beside her on his horse as he drew his cavalry lance from the stirrup of her saddle before turning back to the rest of the Elves.

"CHARGE!"

The others didn't need anymore invitation as swords and lances are drawn and the thundering footsteps of the horses echoed on the stones as they raced to save their kin who is slowly being gained by the advancing wolves. Alleria herself is pushing her mount to the limit to reach her sister. Lirath's dead, and she'll be damned before Sylvanas suffer the same fate.

Battle cries are shouted as the two groups neared each other and Sylvanas barely had time to duck aside as the attention of the charging wolves moved from her to the brave Elves. The crash that followed was a tremendous one as the two forces meet. Horses whinnied and wailed as wolves lunged into them that sent Greenskin and Elven Riders off from the saddle. Screams of the dying and metal piercing flesh and bone echoed on the mountainside. Roars of wolves and curses of elves as fallen riders fend off the wolves that turned on them the moment they were unseated from their horses.

Alleria herself discarded a rider with a shot from her bow. Unlike the other Rangers, the Eldest female Windrunner knew how to shoot while riding a horse. Stringing another arrow on her bow, Alleria let her horse moved on its own accord before picking a target again and sending the said arrow to the brains of a brown wolf who twisted mid-step, sending its Greenskin rider flying as it crashed to the ground dead.

Around her, the cavalry and wolf charge had broken to that of a general melee and Alleria can't help but felt a bout of fear as she noticed that the Elves are losing badly. The horses being skittish around the snarling and slobbering wolves, forcing their riders fight off balance, making them easy prey for the massive Greenskin axes and hammers that crushed the thin golden armor of the High Elves into pieces.

"Bring your pretty face to my knives!" the familiar voice of her sister made Alleria turn as she saw a riderless wolf with a bloody muzzle charge towards her sister who is holding the familiar dirk of the Rangers.

Alleria's hands moved in instinct. Deftly grabbing and stringing an arrow on her bow, she forced her horse to charge behind the wolf before planting the said arrow at the skull of the wolf point blank, making it stumble and fall in front of her sister who scowled playfully at her.

"That one counts as mine!" she protested. Alleria merely smiled at her before forcing her horse again to search for more enemies.

Three minutes, three minutes full of adrenaline and fighting as Elven Riders tried futilely to win the day. Wolves easily decimated their horses and almost all Elves are at their feet now instead of Alleria and two more who managed to retain themselves atop their mounts.

Alleria tried not to grimace. There's at least fifteen more Greenskins and half of that have wolves yet while only ten or so Elves are still battle worthy while the rest are dead and wounded. The odds seemed to be going down on their favor, and for the first time in her life, Alleria felt fear and panic that this battlefield might be her grave. Her quiver is empty and she had just used the last of her arrows on the Greenskin that crushed Farrel's head to paste.

"HELP!"

Panic surged into Alleria as she turned to see her sister Sylvanas being dog piled by two corpses. One is that of a grey wolf which had Sylvanas' knife buried on its neck. While a dead body of a Greenskin lay atop that of the wolf pinning down Sylvanas' lower half.

The problem however is not the two. The problem is another riderless wolf atop the corpses of the Greenskin licking the face of her sister, tasting her.

"NO! STOP!" wailed the Ranger as the wolf bit the tip of her left ear pulling and tugging it, forcing red rivulets down the back of her head.

The moment Alleria saw her sister bleeding, she saw red. She won't lose another sibling here, she won't. Forcing her horse who reluctantly followed to charge the wolf, Alleria grabbed a fallen lance buried on the corpse of a Greenskin burying it at the wolf's side, driving it straight to its heart, making it an instant kill as its corpse added to that of the ones dog piling Sylvanas. It was still busy trying to rip her sister's ear off when its bane hit home.

However the act of saving her sister's life nearly cost Alleria her own. She never saw the wolf that suddenly sprang at her side, throwing her off her horse, sending her tumbling down on the muddy ground.

Immediately the Elven Ranger-General regained her footing, her hand pulling the long dirk at her boot as she looked around for potential enemies. It's a good thing then that Alleria's instincts and reactions are fast. She nearly got her head lopped off as a Greenskin appeared out of nowhere and made a wide horizontal arc with its axe that would have severed her head from her body. It as pure dumb luck that she stepped back just in time as the axe passed millimeters from her neck.

However the Ranger General's luck didn't hold out and she barely recovered her footing from shock when the massive fist of the Greenskin slammed into exposed and uncovered midsection making Alleria gasp and taste coppery blood on her mouth as she heard her ribs crack inside her. Feeling limp, Alleria crashed to the ground barely hearing the cries of her sister calling her name as she felt her lifeblood trickle from her mouth. She only had time to look up with blurry eyes to the Greenskin who is hefting its massive war axe for a final downward stroke to finish her off when a mighty warcry suddenly sounded around her.

"FOR AIUR!"

Next moment, a silver knife buried on the neck of the Greenskin who coughed and spluttered in shock and surprise before there was a sudden burst of blue and white crystals, and a cloaked figure in black and silver appeared holding the knife, pulling it out before blasting the Orc with...is that lightning from his hands which sent it flying then.

Around her through her slowly blurring eyes, golden figures wielding blades with blue edges that pulsed with magic through gauntlets on their arms charge the remaining wolves and greenskins in elegance that would have made most of the High Elves angry. Wolf and Greenskin fell down after one another as the golden figures cut them down like wheat without any effort.

Alleria had only time to raise her head to see green eyes through the cloak of her savior before she lost all consciousness as the damage on her body took its toll.

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"By the goddess, please don't let them see me. And if they do see me, please don't let them kill me," prayed Vereesa as silent as she could be on the cave she had taken shelter in.

It had been a disaster ever since they arrived at the end of the valley. The said Stormwind outpost that had stood there for many years that greeted them every time they attend the daily council meetings of Stormwind had been leveled; and in place of that are ten or so Greenskins looting the place.

With twenty civvies that didn't know how to run (dumb politicians), and most of the soldiers that guarded their group staying behind with Alleria to deal with the Wolf Riders, Vereesa knew that she had no choice on winning with five Rangers that are left behind to guard the caravan. Thus, the youngest Windrunner had opted what she wished she had never done. She had opted herself as bait while leaving the caravan a good stone's thrown away from the edge of the valley clearing as she allowed herself to be seen by the Greenskins before bolting away. Of course that plan worked tremendously.

The only hiccup of that plan that she didn't see was the fact that she underestimated the Greenskins' physical capabilities. They had slowly gained on her. Something that Vereesa Windrunner never expected with their large bulks. Thus; Vereesa had no choice but to bolt to the nearest set of caves that littered the edge of the valley mountains and hole herself on one of them as best as she could, hoping that they won't find her. She had nothing but the dirk on her boot and she didn't even dare draw it in fear that they would hear the sound of metal leaving the sheathe.

Her breathe hitched as the sound of footsteps echoed on the cave she was in followed by the guttural tongue of the greenskins. By the sound of it, there was more than one of them in her cave with the way they are arguing, and Vereesa thanked the fact that she had hidden behind a large stalagmite, else she would have been discovered already. Hopefully they would soon just leave the moment they saw no one is inside.

The High Elf's hopes are dashed as she heard them stop arguing, going irrevocably silent before the sound of their footsteps coming even nearer to her location and Vereesa found herself holding her breathe as her heart beat rapidly on her chest that she feared that they would hear it. She didn't dare exhale as the footsteps stopped unnaturally close to her and the urge to cry rammed her psyche as she tried not to panic.

A large hand in green suddenly grabbed her left ankle making Vereesa let off a howl of fear and surprise as she realized that her said ankle had been peaking out over her hiding place and she futilely tried to grasp stones on her fingernails as they dragged her in front of them.

She can't help the small whimper that left her lips as she noticed that there are at least three of them, all wearing victorious grins as they leered down on her finally caught form. She's just wondering if they would kill her or torture her when one of the Greenskins immediately began to paw her breasts making her eyes pop wide as their intentions on her are suddenly made clear.

"NOOOOOOO!" wailed Vereesa slapping the offending hands away as she saw the half-lidded eyes they had as they drank in her form on her Ranger attire, which showed her midriff and hugged her toned body.

They began touching her again and Vereesa didn't bother this time to stop her tears as her body suffered under their torment though she was thankful that they haven't undressed her yet and at the moment, currently enjoying her fear as they ruined the modesty of her breasts and touching the skin of her midriff. One of the greenskins had even the gall to lick her there.

Still struggling to stop the inhumane act that is soon to follow, Vereesa never expected the sudden surge of lightning that suddenly erupted from the entrance of the cave shocking the three orcs in one go and her at the process. She tried not to scream as the one pawing her right breast currently, collapsed unto her body damaging her chest on the process.

Her pain receptors unable to stop the damage caused by pain. It sent her slowly the bliss oblivion of unconsciousness.

The last thing that Vereesa saw was six figures in elegant golden armor and capes hovering the air approaching her.

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"Why do the Guardian have to leave now at all times?" Anduin Lothar grumbled to himself as he plunged the large sword he had at the chest of an Orc before kicking it off with his feet as he ducked another Orc swing with a hammer, cutting its tendons on the process before slicing at the back of its neck with the sword, splintering the spinal column to its brain, sending it dead before it reached the ground.

Anduin cursed as he looked around the clearing of Elwynn Forest where the small skirmish they are currently having are still occuring. Pockets of his men fighting (or mostly dying) as they tried to fend off the next ambush wave of the Orcs. The Guardian Medievh had left a moment after seeing that rotting tree and removing the first ambush leaving Khadgar to aid them.

Bless that boy's soul, Lothar can't help but think as he ran to the next Orc he could kill. The boy is an exceptional mage, and a patient one. He haven't protested when Lothar had him thrown to the dungeons after his trespass at the barracks, Only when the attacks at additional human and dwarven villages continued did Khadgar finally resigned that the tale weaved by the sergeant who somehow mysteriously gained consciousness and that of the young mage pertaining the Fel and summoning the Guardian is a much needed thing to be done.

Right now however, Lothar can't help but curse the Guardian's name as he ducked another swing of an axe that would have separated his head from his shoulders. Why can't Medievh be a little more lazier and leave a few minutes later than immediately? It could have saved a lot more lives of the men under his charge. Yet, all he got right now is nothing more than the mage who looked plain terrified though he kept on blasting orcs with consecutive bursts of his magic. With the rate he is going with it, Lothar would bet his boot that he would soon be rolling on mana exhaustion.

Another swing made Lothar jump off to the side as he rolled at the side of a fallen sergeant. He cursed as the familiar weight of his sword disappeared from his hand. He must have dropped it from his sudden movement.

The Orc seeing him weaponless roared and charged. Lothar didn't waste any time roaming his hands over the corpse of the dead soldier beside him until he felt the familiar bronze handle of the Dwarves' boomstick that had been distributed to most of the officers in Stormwind's army.

Frantically grabbing the said weapon, Lothar plugged its end with one of the mechanized balls from his pouch that he used for ammunition for his boomstick before it was destroyed frantically as he saw the Orc nearing him.

It roared once raising its axe, and Lothar fired point blank sending the head of the Orc spinning off as it exploded and sent flying, ripped off from its body. Green blood splattered everywhere, and despite himself, Lothar grimaced at the slimy stuff as he tried to regain his footing.

"Now that's what I call an explosion," a voice said behind him suddenly making Lothar spun in an instant sword drawn as he turned to face whoever it is that spoke.

His mouth immediately fell literally and he accidentally dropped his sword. There in front of him is an army of humans that he had never seen before, with banners and everything. Their armor is flimsy compared to that of Stormwind's soldiers, thin layers of gold and black with no sign of sword or any kind of weapons with them other than some who had wide spears, but otherwise nothing else. At the forefront of the assembled army which filled the section of the forest was a tall black-haired man wearing robes of gold and black with a circlet on his head that contained a single gemstone on it that gives off light in a hundred different hues. It is plain obvious that this man is the one in charge of them here. At his side three violet skinned humanoid creature who resembled the High Elves of Quel'Thalas stood with a massive bows at their back, though one looked more regal than the rest. He can't help but let his eyes roam over them as the part of his mind who appreciated women take into account their revealing armor which failed to hide their curves and their legs.

"Father!" the sound of his son calling brought Lothar out of his misgivings as he remembered there is still a battle going on, only to look at the aftermath of it where corpses of Orcs littered everywhere while dark robed figures with hoods covering their heads with silver walked silently the batlefield, executing those who are still alive with knives.

"Who are they father?" asked Calen as he approached his father with the rest of the surviving guards watching the newcomers who seemed amused at their nervousness.

Lothar merely shook his head as his mind reeled from this new surprising turn of events. "I don't know son, I don't know,"

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 **Hello, so another chapter done. Please Review and Fav.**

 **Now, everyone's questions are answered? I'm sorry for HP fans if you think that the main view would be only Harrold's. It would be everyone's views here. This story is all about how much change, and how much the Terrans can save on this oncoming storm. I based the storyline at the moment as the one on the movies and I would gladly appreciate it if I can get your reviews on how the story should proceed.**

 **Questions:**

 ***Who is the Windrunners' father and mother? And how long are they at the position of monarchy at Quel'Thalas?**

 ***Rolling a vote. Who wanted Harrold's first children take the Windrunner sisters as their mates? hihih (sorry if my thoughts are a bit kinky) I always adored the three sisters, and I can't help it. Alleria gone, Vereesa stuck with Rhonin and Sylvanas having the worst luck. I plan to change that if your votes go through.**

 **PS: For the one who just flamed me. I don't care about your opinion! This is fanfiction! I can shape the events and the characters whatever I want. If I want Tyrande not a High Priestess then I will do so! And if you could shut your blubber mouth, then the tighter it is the better! I checked your account and hell! You're as lazy as I thought without even making one of your own stories but criticizing those who do try to make an effort!**

 **PPS! Lustmaster! Stay the fuck out of my reviews or else I'll kick you in the balls and you're going to wish you had never lived!**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

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 _"Mighty are the power of words, and the effect it can have on mortal men. But mightier is the effect of deeds, for even the lowliest peasant can gain the courage of a knight when there's someone worthy leading him,"_

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King Llane, monarch of Stormwind and overall leader of the humans here at the southern continent of the Eastern Kingdoms, is having a bad day. Already he can feel the headache coming from what he is supposed to be expecting right now as he sat uncomfortably on his splendid golden throne, waiting in anticipation at the doors that remained close until now.

A messenger came from Anduin' Lothar's excursion team a few hours before informing him of the result of the raid that they managed to capture one of the Greenskins for interrogation. King Llane can't help but be proud of his old friend and general. He truly earned his nickname of the "Lion of Azeroth". He never failed a mission yet before even if it is with the aid of the Guardian that this mission is made a success.

If that was the reason for the message alone, King Llane would have been satisfied. However it did not end there.

For the first time in his life, the King of Stormwind lost his composure and dignified pose as he spat out the wine he was drinking when the messenger uttered that a large force that didn't belong to any of the current factions that Stormwind had known about appeared out of nowhere on Elwynn Forest and had saved the hides of his general and his men. If the messenger was accurate, Anduin speculated that they belonged to another kingdom, and he isn't sure if he was happy with the fact that a strong kingdom existed that he didn't know about. Not to mention that he's also worried for the reasons why they were here. Either they come in peace, or being another harbinger of war.

His stress levels also increased a notch when another messenger arrived, and this one is panicky and looked plain terrified. Too late did Llane realized that the messenger was a High Elf. His clothes looked filthy and it contained scratches everywhere, not to mention dried blood stained it also.

Before Llane could question the Elf for his message, it immediately began screaming that the convoy of the High Elven Ambassadors that have traveled from Quel'Thalas for the annual council of leaders at Stormwind had been ambushed by unnatural Greenskin monster riding wolves and were presumed dead.

Too say that Llane felt panic at that presumption would be an understatement. He knew the King of the High Elves of QUel'Thalas, Anasterian. The old monarch had reluctantly agreed to the Alliance they had right now with the humans, preferring to keep to themselves on their cities, shielded by the powerful enchantments of their trees. It was only thanks to the persuasions his childhood friend Terenas, the Young king of the Kingdom of Lordaeron that the High Elves had been participating on this meeting with the assurance that their ambassadors' safety would be guaranteed.

Now thanks to that news, King Llane for the first time didn't know what to do but sit on his throne and drink as much wine as he possibly could until he managed to gain council from Lothar and Medievh on how to deal with this. The High Elves are powerful despite fewer in numbers than the army of Stormwind, and Llane isn't stupid to underestimate Anasterian. He'll bet his golden throne that the King of the Elves won't take this news lightly. If there's one thing that Anasterian can be applauded of; its his belief that the Elves are superior than any race. For him, the sacrifice of Elven lives for human ones is not worth it. Far from it in fact.

Again the urge to drink more out of the pitcher of wine a servant prepared beside his throne tempted the King of Stormwind and it is with a great deal of self-control for the king not to succumb to it. He needed his head clear on dealing with this newcomers and he'd rather be as imposing as he could in this first meeting. He'll drink later once he knew their intentions.

Llane was still fiddling with the throat neckline of his royal attire when a servant suddenly appeared from the gates of the throne room, nearly making the King jump in surprise as the said servant then knelt facing him.

"My lord, Commander Lothar is already outside with the delegation that he met at Elwynn Forest. He is requesting permission to grant them entrance into your halls,"

"Granted," Llane spoke immediately straightening on his throne and he could see the royal guards also making themselves look as pomp and aspiring as possible the moment the words left the servant's mouth. "Send them in," the king finished and the servant once more bowed before walking out to the doors leaving a quite nervous king behind.

Yes, he's nervous. Llane if he's going to be honest with himself loved nothing more than to rule in peace. He isn't exactly a vicious person, and this threat of Greenskins raiding his kingdom and the daily problems caused by the corsairs of the south really took a toll his peaceful nature.

He knew that his kingdom currently can't afford a war with another one. Not at the current state they are at. If this newcomers tried an attempt to invade Stormwind; Llane is realistic enough to know that even if he requested help from Lordaeron on the north, they would still fall. Their kingdoms were just too far from one another.

The sound of the door creaking made Llane jump up again in surprise and he can't help the scowl at the fact that he had been a lot jumpy these days for some reason that he cannot fathom.

He was saved however from thinking too much about it when the doors of the throne room fully opened and seven people entered.

Of course he recognized the slightly dirty look of his commander and brother-in-law. His usual lavish armor that is taken with great care containing grimes of mud on it and bits of grass. In fact a dried leaf is still sticking out of his air like a sore thumb and Llane could tell that the guards of the throne room noticed it too as they obviously tried to contain their laughter.

The King of Stormwind's gaze however did not linger on his loyal subject, but at the six beings that followed him not resembling any royal decorum at all (as far as Stormwind practices go) as they peered around the throne room in curiosity and admiration. There is also no sign of any sort of royalty with them that King Llane expected to meet immediately.

There is a tall person covered in black and silver with his hood up and with a silver band that covered his eyes (Guys you really need to watch Kingsglaive to know what I mean). All he could see is a pair of striking green eyes that did not left him, unlike the others. King Llane however could not see his face. Lots of knife slots he could identify on him and the King of Stormwind shivered a bit, wondering if this person is an assassin of some kind. He sure looked like one.

Next to him is a human obviously with a rounded head that held a stern face. He looked gentle, but his eyes belied the danger that he is. Llane recognized it immediately. Those eyes belonged to that of a warrior that had seen a lot of deaths, and a veteran at that field. He had golden armor with black leathers that contained some kind of blue crystal that swirled on his joints and a pouch hangs at his side. No sign of any weapon is found on him.

On his side is a large armored figure nearly as tall as the hooded figure is with a cape that covered its entire body denying him the chance to know whether this figure is a boy or a girl. Piercing yellow-cat like eyes observed him and his guards and Llane would have bet that the large circular sharp disk held loosely dangling at her back isn't just for show.

The next two people beside the armored tall figure made King Llane blink as his eyes went directly subconsciously at the tapered ears that they had. They are obviously Elves, though they don't look like any sort of Elves that Llane have ever seen. Unlike the High Elves who wore their armor somewhere between the line of provocative and modest. These ones on the other hand wore theirs plainly on the seductive side with how much skin and body they are showing. Already he is feeling tempted if the tightening of his pants is any indication as it responded to hormones long buried the moment he swore his love to his queen. It didn't help that their odd coloration made them even more look enticing on their armor. The one at the right had a slightly pinkish violet color with blue green hair cut short to the edge below her chin. Tatoos of some kind adored her eyes which he noticed that the one beside her do not have on her face. Unlike the one standing beside her, the one on the left looked positively radiant and desirable with her light violet skin that made her look shiny compared to her counterpart. Her violet hair length is also different from the pink one, as it flowed down like a waterfall to her butt at her back. Massive bows are at their backs and King Llane didn't fail to notice the crude hunting knives strapped to their boots that reminded him of the dirks that the High Elven Rangers placed on theirs also. These Elves must be cousins of theirs of some kind. That made Llane feel a little hopeful for this meeting.

However all sorts of feeling hope for this meeting is instantly squashed as the King of Stormwind looked at the last female, and can't help but let off a little squawk of fear. She looked like a demon, like the ones that the tales of Quel'Thalas had brought with them that they shared to the other kingdoms in case of the instance the creatures of the Nether make another attempt on manifesting themselves on the mortal realm. Llane actually never believed them, believing that the stories of the High Elves are nothing more than fairy tales taught to their children. However right now seeing an almost the same comparison with the said tales on his childhood made the King of Stormwind have half a mind to order his guards to grab the said girl and roll her off to the nearest chopping block to be beheaded.

The only reason that he isn't doing it right now is that the girl looked extremely innocent. Her eyes held something in them that just made him trust her despite the presence of her horns and cloven hooves. It didn't help that her armor is the modest ones of all the females of these newcomers. Simply robes of white that showed off her light blue legs. A staff is at her hand, and Llane believed that she must be a mage of some kind if the similarities between her and the mages of Dalaran are too be compared.

All in all, they are the most weird group that the King of Stormwind had got the pleasantry to meet. He never met a group so...assorted. Some of them like the one in gold armor and the one in full regalia of steel looked regal and imposing while others like the Elves completely look native and if he might say it, barbaric.

"My lord,"

Llaine blinked as he shook himself. He couldn't believe that he had been staring at the people for a time assessing them in silence and had completely ignored his commander who had called his name three times already to catch his attention knowing that his king had broken protocol for staring too much. Face going red being caught on his small blunder, Llane stood up from his throne beckoning to the newcomers with wide arms.

"Welcome to Stormwind strangers. I am King Llane, ruler of the city,"

Much to the ruler of Stormwind's displeasure though, the one who answered him is not the one who looked a bit trustworthy but the most untrustworthy of all, the one who wears black with the bloody hood.

"I appreciate your Hospitality King Llane," he spoke in a deep voice surprising everyone as he then stepped forward than the rest inclining his head simply in respect. Llane didn't miss the fact that he didn't bow to him. "My name is Harrold James Potter, Templar Grandmaster of the Terrans and leader of the alliance of Kalimdor," he then took his hood off and the silver covering on his face showing off untamed hair and green eyes. Atop his head is a silver circlet with a blue gemstone on the middle that seemed alive at his forehead with the way it swirled back and forth.

 _"Aliance? What Alliance is he talking about? As far as I know Kalimdor had barely a society that can be called civilized. Since when did this Alliance sprang up and why haven't we heard anything about it?"_ Llane thought frantically.

When he was younger and was still a prince, he made it a point to travel as much of the world as he can, enjoying the perks of freedom on being an adventurer before his father passed him the crown of Stormwind. Sure he heard about Kalimdor. Terenas' father had sent an expedition on that empty wasteland filled with creatures that can kill you in a hundred different ways from either shocking you, eating you alive, or murdering you before you had any idea where they are. There was even one rumour that there is a flying creature there that can kill you by over-sex. Sad to say, that expedition came to nothing as the survivors returned telling tales that can barely be believed by any sane individual. That's the reason why King Llane had a hard time believing what this black cloaked man is talking about. If not for the fact that he had an army standing by at Stormwind's backyard, Llane would had already thrown him at the cells for lying.

Seeing that he had to reply something of a kind to avoid shame. The King of Stormwind settled on two words simply:

"I see,"

The black cloaked man merely smirked predatorily as if he expected this making Llane shiver as then gestured to his companions.

"With me is my guards. Neville Longbottom of Vroengard, Sestia of the Draenei, Maieve Shadowsong, Arko'Narin, and Laetri Potter for the Kaldorei people," the man gestured to each of the person beside him their names as he pointed it out for him. He however choked at the last one and before he could stop himself, he can't help but blurt out immediately.

"Potter? She's your wife?"

Immediately a deep scowl marred the Grandmaster's face and an indignant look morphed on the Kaldorei's. King Llane didn't know a shade of that color, violet even had as she blushed deeply at his implication.

"She's my daughter not my wife!" snapped the man in front of him heatedly.

For the first time in his career ever since he sat on the throne, King Llane of Stormwind look abashed publicly. It didn't help that he could hear some of hus guards sniggering at his mistake, and even Lothar who had opted to seat himself at the stairs towards his throne is struggling to contain a smirk that is threatening to burst out of his lips.

"Uhmm...sorry about that," apologized Llane hoping that his mistake would not sour the negotiations that will be made later.

"Accepted however," the Templar Grandmaster waved his hand at his side and immediately five comfy chairs appeared out of thin air in front of his throne nearly making the King lost his composure at the display of magic as his eyes bugged out of his skull and even his guards are caught off guard as one of them unconsciously dropped his own spear and did not even notice it until it hit the ground with a familiar clang that made Lothar glare at his misbehavior of conduct. The man with green eyes merely looked amused as he sat himself with the others behind him on their chairs, looking as regal as any king that Llane had seen as he crossed his fingers while facing him. "I won't stand while you quiz us King Llane. I hope you don't mind?"

It took all of the King of Stormwind's composure not to scowl. He is being played at his own game. He had consciously avoided asking the group to sit as any monarch protocol dictated in favor of assessing the fact whether that this group would be a threat to Stormwind or not. Not inviting another monarch to sit is a grave insult; meaning that you believed yourself to be superior to them and not offer them the act of equality. It seems that this Grandmaster person noticed his bluff too and is currently calling him on it...publicly.

"Of course not," Llane tried not to make his gritting teeth seen and heard on his words. "Forgive me for-,"

He was however stopped short as the Grandmaster raised a hand that made him stop mid-sentence.

"I'm pretty sure that you had a very good reason for acting the way you did, but I had no time for charade and so do you, so I'll go straight to the point," said Harrold in a stern manner that made the King of Stormwind feel a little cowed. This person had leadership aura in spades. He could feel the wolf in him bowing to an alpha, metaphorically speaking. "I know that you are worried about our presence here and you had good reason to. Every king does I believe if an unknown force with unknown capabilities introduced themselves. In fact your cautiousness skills intertwined with the hospitality you showed us are commendable. It prevented a rude start between our two countries, but it also prevents us from ransacking your city if we do plant to," Harrold added with a smirk before leaning back on his chair with his fingers crossed again. "Lucky for you, we are not here as your enemies King Llane. And we did not come here to make friends with you either. In fact if I'm going to be honest with you, we didn't care about you at all. The main reason why I and my people are here is to destroy a future threat not only to our races, but to the entirety of the planet. In fact I hoped that you could help me on that regard since this is your land being touched after all,"

"And what is this threat you are talking about?" Llane can't help but ask a bit impatiently. He can't help but sat a little straighter for both in relief, that this group won't add to Stormwind's currently rising number of problems and fear, that they came bearing ill news that is not only nation-threatening but planet-threatening in nature.

"I do not exactly know about the details about it, for we know only its name... Fel,"

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Tyrande yawned as she rubbed the back of Nisha', her frost saber as it curled on her feet. She can't help but admire the cat. Alleia had gifted it to her, a few years after her wedding with Harrold and Tyrande can't help but love the furball.

She had grown as large as she is already and twice as long. It's obvious that she'll grow only wider now and not longer. She's still a little too young for Tyrande to be riding, maybe a few decades and she'll be ready.

Currently Tyrande is lounging on her bourdour, watching her Frost Saber munch determinedly on a dried piece of meat that he had thrown fifteen minutes ago. The fact that the meat hadn't gone down yet the Frost Saber's gullet spoke volumes of how tough the meat is.

Right now though, the Night Elf High Priestess felt bored. She had refused Harrold's invitation to go up to the human city with him and the others. She had enough of humans ogling at her. Despite the long years, she still remembered the looks that the ones in Rohan had given her with Arko'. and she had no wish to repeat what had occured that day here. It disgusted Tyrande that human males had such low control over their basic desires. She discussed it in long depth with Alleia, and the High Priestess had told her that humans unlike Kaldorei were prone to act on their desires rather than taking the discipline which took years to master to control them. The Terrans were a complete exception since they were chosen by gods specifically to be reborn, and the newer generation of their people had the Khala to unite them with one another, which was more than enough to offer any Terran a great deal of self-control.

A good example would be of course; right now. Tyrande sighed again as she watched the golden figures of Artistans and Templars pass her tent doing their duties. The five thousand plus men that had accompanied them on this journey are currently camping at the Western walls of Stormwind, outside the gates overlooking the ocean. Tyrande had to wince at the floating wastes that the waters near Stormwind had. Its obvious that the population dump their waste on the waters. What a very unsanitary act. Do these people even know that what they are doing would also be their undoing later on? Disease would be rampant unless they change their ways. It is with a great effort that Tyrande manage to rein in her opinions, chiding herself that the people here don't have the knowledge that the schools on Aiur have.

Shifting her form to sit in a more comfortable pattern, Tyrande felt completely neglected as she watched the bustling camp around her. Being the only leader left, Tyrande of course had been given overall command of the army until Harrold returned with the others. A position that is one of the most lazy if you belong to the Alliance of Kalimdor in times of peace.

The Templar are properly trained and properly disciplined and their connection with the Khala made them completely efficient and coordinated on everything they do like a well-iled machine. Making camp and protecting it and keeping it running are pie and pieces for them. Only the ones that her Sentinel guards are currently flirting are looking uncomfortable. All in all, being a leader of such an army currently made Tyrande morose. She almost wished that anything would happen. Even a fight would be welcome. When Sentinels gather together in an army size, lots of problems occur that made her want to had a migraine unlike this one. She isn't sure which she preferred, the silent army of the Templars that would bore her to death or the raucuous army of the Night Elves that will cause her to die by giving her an aneurism.

Her thoughts are cut out though as a sudden flash in front of her made Tyrande look up to see the familiar formal black robed figure of a Dark Templar bowing before her. She almost rejoiced. Dark Templar other than Harrold and James don't usually interact with others not affiliated with their order. They just do when they have either news to deliver or someone or something to kill.

"My lady, I bring word from the scouts at the Nothern gate of the city. It seems that the forces made up by the princes of Aiur have returned and they are not alone. They bear markings of a battle and they have with them, what looks to be a delegation group of some kind," reported the Dark Templar.

"I see," nodded Tyrande. "Are James and Albus coming back here with their forces?" she asked. Having James and Albus around would surely break this monotone of boredom that she is suffering currently.

"No my lady," shook the Dark Templar's head in negative. "They have gone into the city with the delegation. So far none of them looked hurt but the delegation that they are traveling with looks like they had suffered badly with how many stretchers and white linens that I believe contain the corpses of their comrades they are carrying with them,"

"Hmm... never knew Humans here cared for their dead that much," mumbled Tyrande to herself thoughtfully.

"Pardon me my lady, but they are not humans,"

What?" the Priestess of Elune turned to the Dark Templar who shifted uncomfortably.

"They are not humans my lady. They looked almost the same as you. I thought at first they must be a different variety of Elves with how the only difference between your race and theirs are the skin color and the shape of your ears. Theirs are shorter than any Kaldorei I had seen, and more slender. Their skin color is almost the same as the humans except even in the distance I could feel the magic on them as if they have bonded with magic and have immersed themselves on them in an amount that any self-respecting High Templar would call healthy. had hoped that you would enlighten me on this matter my lady. We would not want accidentally giving battle on what might be long lost cousins of your race. Do you know of them?"

"I know of them alright," growled Tyrande feeling her fists clench as her memories brought her back to a time before the Terrans arrived on Azeroth and where Night Elves lived peacefully then until the First War. It took all of Tyrande's concentration and self-control not to grab her bow and march up to these long lost brethren of theirs.

"Who are they my lady?" asked the Dark Templar a bit bewildered by the harsh reaction of the Priestess of Elune.

"Murderers, traitors, demon-worhsipers," sneered the Night Elf before she finished.

"Highborne,"

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"Hmm, so basically what we are dealing with here is some sort of magic that drains the life or the energy that maintains life on its victims. This is troubling indeed," Harrold muttered to himself as he sat in front of the King of Stormwind ignoring everyone's stares as he delved into his own mind for counsel maintaining a troubled expression on the outside.

Like Harrold said, he indeed was troubled at what the King of Stormwind had just said and for good reason to.

 _"An ancient magic that do not belong to the planet. It grants great power, but exacts a terrible price. Mainly, life,"_

That's what the King had said and if Harrold's sources past was to be trusted. Then it indeed was really troubling. Magic that relates to the soul had always been powerful. Good example of these of course is the Khydarin Crystals that the Terrans use. Dark Templar have powers that rivaled even the energy based attacks of the High Templar but the usage of these powers is paid by halving their life spans. Nearly all Templar use the Khydarin Crystals on their armor to improve their entire physical prowess to insane odds at the price of their strength as payment. He got a feeling that this Fel thing is something worse than the crystals that the Terrans had, and this would not be the first time he would be dealing with this.

"The Guardian said that Fel had no place on Azeroth," added the King of Stormwind breaking Harrold out of his stupor.

"Pardon me?"

The King in front of him only shifted uneasily. "I was implying that it was the Guardian who told us that the Fel do not come here,"

"Interesting," nodded Harrold. "And I believe the Orcs were not as well yes?"

"As far as we can tell," it was Anduin Lothar who answered this time. "They're savage beasts that even the worst of the wild animals found in our continent cannot compare with. My best troops you have already seen at the forest were easily taken down by brute force alone. These Orcs were some of the worst creatures I had the displeasure to face having the strength of three men on every one of them. I won't be surprised if they were associated with the Fel. Maybe next time the Guardian was here, we'll get some answers finally,"

"Uh-huh," nodded Harrold before perking up. "These Guardian of yours though. He is a mage yes?"

"Aye," both men nodded.

"What can you tell me about him?" asked Harrold.

"Well he's the Guardian of Azeroth and he wields great arcane power that can rival even the Archmages of the Floating city of Dalaran. He aided my father before during the different' crisis' that we have on this continent and he never failed us,"

"So he's entirely trustworthy?" Harrold asked ignoring the affronted look that the King of Stormwind immediately sported.

"I'll bet my life on it," he answered surely. "Without the aid of the Guardian, Stormwind would have fallen already,"

"I see," nodded Harrold before clapping his hands making everyone jump at the sudden sound. "That concludes my inquiry. As I've said before King Llane. My people had no argument with yours, and for the meantime since we had the same goals. I would suggest a temporary alliance between your people and what soldiers I had brought here. I believe you would find our aid an excellent deal,"

The two men in front of them looked like Christmas had come early though as if they didn't believe one thing that he had just said. All in all they looked like goldfishes pulled out of the water with their mouths opening and closing in unison.

"You're proposing an alliance with us?" asked Llane disbelievingly.

Harrold only smirked trying not to snigger alongside the others with him who had remained silent this time until Llane repeated Harrold's statement.

"Temporary Alliance," corrected the Templar Grandmaster. "But yeah, I just proposed an alliance between you and the Alliance of Kalimdor for this current threat,"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," nodded Harrold. "The details of course I will talk with you later personally between us as leaders of our people. But for now I would like nothing more than to reassure you that I and my people bear no ill will against you or Stormwind. We came here to protect our homes back at Aiur and that is what we will do. If allying ourselves to you make it easier, then we won't throw away the gift that Fate gives us,"

For the first time, it seemed that the King of Stormwind had completely dropped the regal look that he posed as Harrold finished his statement with a small smile. The Templar Grandmaster merely watched as the man on the throne stood up before going down on the dais to stand in front of him. Harrold did not back down as he stood, a head taller than the King of Stormwind looking as imposing in a way a Dark Templar only could.

"I accept your offer Templar Grandmaster. Be it known that the Kingdom of Stormwind will not turn its back on you while we maintain this alliance. Our swords are your swords, and your enemy will be our enemy," the shorter man raised a hand to shake his own.

Harrold did not expect this. He had expected a reluctant alliance at best when he first talked to him. It seemed that this King had honor in spades, truly does caring for his people and Harrold was wrong when he labeled him as the same as the other monarchs on his second life. Despite himself, the Templar Grandmaster can't help but smirk as he received the handshake that the King of Stormwind had offered.

"It would be an honor to fight beside you King Llane,"

The Templar Grandmaster could tell that the guards wanted to cheer and his comrades wanted to grill him with questions. But that can wait. Today was a historic day for-.

The doors of the Palace opened with a boom showing off a disheveled looking servant who looked like he haven't stopped running until he got here. Kneeling in front of his king and completely ignoring Harrold and his people as if they are nothing more than tapestries at the wall with the lack of attention he gave them.

"My lord. I bring ill news!" started the servant panting still. "The High Elves...,"

The doors boomed open again and this time everyone looked as an Elf with piercing blue eyes wearing a green cloak with leather armor covered in blood and sand, showing off her midriff entered. The bow on her hands and the arrows on her back attracting the greatest attention. Her golden hair looked like it had been stranded on tangles with the way it hang limply and unevenly at her side of the head. Her skin tone is the same as that of the humans but had an ethereal glow to it as if bathed in magic. Harrold tried not to shiver as he could feel the excessive feeling of magic that seemed to leak from this woman.

"My lord we are in desperate need of healers right now...," the Elf started yelling but stopped immediately as he noticed that the King of Stormwind isn't alone. Her blue eyes started to travel over Harrold and his companions curiously but are replaced immediately with that of extreme hatred as they glued unto the form of Laetri and Arko'Narin who squeaked at the sudden change of expression at the Elf's face that formed into one of complete hatred.

"Kaldorei!" she hissed like a snake and before anyone could stop her. The Elf drew and fire in a split second towards the direction of Arko'Narin, the arrow a complete bullseye on her forehead.

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 **Hello so, sorry for the late upload. I got sick and I cant type when my head's aching, so you get the point hihihi. Anyway sorry for the late upload again. Please review. The more reviews I got, the happier I will be.**

 **-Im sorry if this became a multiverse of some sort. I really enjoyed LOTR and currently Starcraft that I am playing. Its legacy of the Void I believe. I admired the Protoss so much, thats why I put their lifestyle on Terran society. Besides, imagine if Medieval Knights are thrown into the World of Warcraft. They would be ripped to pieces immediately. Anyway hope you liked the story. Many don't since they said that I should stick with what there is already and don't change it at all. Well I don't want my story to be like that. I want it to be unique, and different from everything else.**

 **-harry's not a pure white knight. He's just being Harry despite his second life. Besides, I did mention that the lives chosen by the gods to be reborn on this world is pure. So being basically evil is out of the question. And I may have overpowered the Terrans a bit, but that's what makes them unique.**

 **-I've thought of the relationships and so far I've branched out. Kaldorei allows for more than one mate of course.**

 **James Potter X Sestia (OC Draenei Priestess) X Alleria Windrunner**

 **Albus Potter X Maieve X Sylvanas Windrunner**

 **Laetri Potter X Arko'Narin X Vereesa Windrunner**

 **Harrold James Potter X Alleia Silversong (OC High Priestess) X Tyrande Whisperwind (Wait on it)**

 **PS: For the last time this is my first story and the other stories on my account belonged to Cassandra and Cassandra alone.**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

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 _"For the strength of the heart is the strength of the king,"_

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"Shit!"

"Duck!"

"Arko!"

Three different voices shouted in unison as the Ranger's arrow zipped in insane speeds towards her forehead. Arko'Narin for the life of her, can't help but panic as the arrow seemed to slow down on her vision as it edged closer to imbed itself on her skull.

The Night Elf just closed her eyes knowing that whatever she did, she would not be able to escape the arrow's path. The one who shot it had completed all the correct angle maneuvers, and if she did try to move either to the right or to the left, Arko knew the result would be the same. The arrow planted only to a different part of her head.

Oh how she wished that she at least haven't got the chance to admit to Laetri her feelings. She haven't forgotten that beautiful night the two of them spent at the moon well during the Feast of Stars, and until now she can still feel the soft body of her best friend pressed to her, their arms entangled over one another as they rested on the afterglow of their love-making. It was their that Arko'Narin realized the fact that she had fallen for the beautiful half-elf. And from then; she had been trying to muster the courage to admit that single fact to her everyday without much due success. Now it seems that she'll never get that chance.

There wa the sound of someone appearing in front of her. and Arko just opened her eyes just in time to see the familiar massive armor designs of Maieve who blinked between her and the arrow just in time that the arrow impacted.

There was a burst of light as the arrow released a pent up energy of green on the barrier provided by the Khydarin crystal that is implanted at the base of Maieve's right pauldron. The shield for a moment showed as it blocked most of the magical burst caused by the arrow's explosion before it flickered twice and disappeared completely sending the former Warden of Illidan flying to her.

The newly inducted Sentinel barely had time to realize that a figure on armor four times as wide as her and a quarter taller is zipping at her smaller frame when she felt Maieve collide on her; making Arko' yelp as she was sent flying with Maieve before the two of them crashed to the floor in a tangle that removed completely the air from her lungs. For a moment Arko' blinked as stars appeared on her vision as she tried to regain her eyesight as she stared at the one who shot her.

Much to the trapped Night Elf's horror. The Highborne elf who shot the arrow still looked livid. No, livid would be underwording it. She looked furious, and if that was bad enough. Imagine facing a furious elf who had a bow on her hands and arrows just within easy reach of her.

Arko' barely had time to wiggle out of the death trap caused by a knocked out Maive's armor when the Highborne elf drew and knocked another arrow on that bow of hers in a split second.

This time for sure Arko'Narin was sure that death would meet her face to face as she sighted it again on her head. Her assurance of the end though is broken as a familiar black knife suddenly spun in front of the Highborne elf who immediately panicked at how close the knife is at her face when it exploded in a burst of crystals. Even Arko' barely had a second to admire the help when a foot suddenly came out and planted itself at the face of the Highborne in such force that it sent the female elf reeling and imbalanced as the familiar form of the Templar Grandmaster in all his Dark Templar glory landed nimbly on his feet in front of the Highborne who had lost her footing as she had impacted on a pillar, her cheek supporting a massive bruise, while a trickle of blood fell at the side of her lips as she lay at her stomach on the floor.

"Arko are you alright?" the concerned voice of Laetri are heard beside her and the Sentinel can't help the groan of pain that left her lips as she and Neville crouched beside her and Maieve. The Templar muttered a spell at the knocked out Maieve that suspiciously sounded like _"Ennervate,"_ helping the former Warden up on her feet unsteadily as the flash of light hit her waking her up, removing the crushing weight that is causing the Sentinel pinned.

"Arko' are you alright?" repeated Laetri and this time Arko' can't help the hiss of pain that left her lips as her friend began prodding her abdomen sending a jolt of protest at her spine. She fervently prayed that Highborne remained down. It would be embarrassing for her situation to be accidentally killed by an arrow fired at her back without her even seeing it.

"I don't think so," groaned the Sentinel trying not to move as every ginger movement sent jolts of pain at her spine. "I think I broke a rib or all of them," she added as an after thought as sending pressure to bend on her spine made her wince.

She tried not to wince again as the gentle hands of her best friend roamed over her abdomen.

"You're right," muttered Laetri. "You've broken at least three. Don't try to move,"

"I'm not planning to," Arko'Narin gritted, her teeth gnashing at the pain. Already she could feel herself fading out to unconsciousness as her pain receptors failed to handle the damage.

"Sestia! I need you!" yelled Laetri loudly and Arko' this time can see nothing but blurry images as the the shadow of the Draenei appeared beside Laetri bending over her. There voices sounded vague like a dull speaker spell on her skull as they began talking with one another, and it hurt. The sound making the dull pain at the back of her head throb and she can't help the groan that left her lips. Their talking seemed to intensify at her reaction and the pain inside her skull proved to be unbearable.

The last thing Arko'Narin saw before she fainted is the form of Sestia standing over her muttering something on her own language as a faint golden light surrounded the slowly fading Sentinel.

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Albus Potter refrained the urge to stroke his head in agony. Being a High Templar, it is a daily work for him to maintain the balance of magic absorbed from the Khydarin Crystal planted on his forearm. Too much and he would be observing the contract that the Dark Templars had that granted them immense power but halve their lives. Too few and he would be unable to continue using the magic that are the talent of all High Templars. Keeping the flow of magic in his system is usually tiring and nerve wracking at times. That's the reason why the training of discipline that High Templars had for all aspiring students is rigid.

Right now though, Albus had another set of something to worry other than the mysteries of the magic that he wielded. That worry is about another tactless decision his older brother had made.

Make no mistake, Albus loved the guy. He had great relationship with James and his younger sister, Laetri who earned most of the elven blood and features from their mother. Out of all of them, she's the only one who looked Kaldorei. James and Albus got their features from their father and the color on the other hand. Only the pointy ears they get from their mother.

And the three of them can't be more closer as siblings.

On some days though, Albus can't help but succumb to the urge to bash the head of his older brother on a wall for always not thinking things through. He expected that of course from him. James was always the warrior and the brash one. Albus was the thinker and the one who usually curbed his brother's antics and give light to his decisions. He would make a great advisor to the heir Grandmaster like his uncle Draco.

Right now though, Albus really wished that James had at least spent some time more studying and reading about history of the alliance and their races rather than training Dark Templar recruits and exploring the mysteries of the magic of the Khydarin crystals even more as Dark Templars wont to do.

The reason for his headache, the elves they rescued from that valley pass. Albus would bet his money that those elves were Highborne if the libraries of the Moonglade and the slowly budding tree-city of Darnassus are to be trusted. He didn't know what to do then when he agreed with his brother to aid the beleaguered elves.

It has been an abrupt decision, one he didn't have time to think long as High Templars do. One moment they are patrolling the burnt down tower that had the human kingdom's flags with a scouting force that separated from the main body that resumed its trek to the human kingdom capital, and the next they were seeing elves being ambushed by Greenskins who looked like fighting has been their way of life for centuries, decimating the lithe elves. It didn't need a genius to know who is the culprit of the attacks when James' saw a beautiful woman about to be killed and immediately charged in attacking the Greenskins. Albus had no choice but to also give the order to engage the enemy and support his brother.

Normally if his hunch was right, which he bet it was. Albus would rather stand his ground and avoid helping this Highborne. The grief they gave to their mother and her people were great and he won't shed any tears if they get slaughtered.

At least that was his decision until the elf called Sylvanas started gradually thanking him a lot with complete sincerity of times when he saved that she-elf who looked no older than her younger sister nearly losing her virginity to two of the Greenskins.

Albus abhorred rapists. Once one of the more stupid and drunk Rohirrim attacked a female Terran Artisan merchant who had chosen Rohan to sell her wares into. He had felt through the Khala the fear she felt, the helplessness, the anger and shame that came along with it before she died. The entire Terran society had been unforgiving when they caught the murderer and he had been literally ripped piece by piece by the avenging people. None on the Alliance of Kalimdor dared to attack one of their people again in such a manner.

He would have waved Sylvanas off yet for some reason, Fate seemed to mock him as the grateful elf seemed to latch unto him like a glue, riddling him with questions pertaining about everything that can rival even the most inquisitive of High Templar apprentices. And that is saying something. Albus had to avoid throttling James as the Dark Templar announced to their rescue group that they would travel with the defenseless group and make sure that they arrive at "Stormwind" since it is their duty to protect the defenseless.

Albus would have never agreed until he realized that Stormwind is also the city where the rest of the army is heading. He didn't miss the smirk thrown to him by James' when a delighted Sylvanas practically didn't left his side bombarding him with questions about the Alliance and everything about High Templar. He's just thankful that he didn't ask about him. If she knew that his mother was a Night Elf, all shit will lose. Highborne and Kaldorei enmity was high before and he would have no wish of fighting while on the road. For the first time, Albus was glad of the uncomfortable head gears of th High Templar that hid his ears. He had to pray on the road though that James would not be stupid enough to remove his cloak and show his ears to everyone that proves that he has elven blood on his veins. That would invite questions that neither both of them don't have the wisdom nor the authority to answer.

Thankfully no accidents happen along the way and Albus just thanked his lucky stars that the High Elves aren't that inquisitive though he had a sneaking suspicion that they're putting off their questions at the moment in respect and no small amount of fear at him and his brother's men. Albus can't help to fault their suspicion of course. He would have the same suspicions as they do if he was at their shoes.

Only Sylvanas made the effort on breaking answers from him, and Harrold can't help but feel a little fondly on the blue-eyed Highborne who remained inquisitive despite the disapproving glances of her brethren.

Now Albus found himself walking along the pathways of this human castle wishing that he would be back at his home, on Aiur sitting beside his mother, listening to the endless stories of her long life. He had started his wandering a few hours ago after they deposited most of the traumatized embassy of the Highborne, or High Elves as they are being called by the guards of Stormwind currently. The High Templar made a mental note to visit the libraries of this new kingdom later.

Being a High Templar, information and knowledge he and his comrades coveted above all else, and though they can't rival either Greybeards or Druids, the High Templar are still great candidates into questioning when you need something answered. The possibility of not knowing is an insult to the core for them; and a puzzle when information is either incorrect or lacking.

Albus' musings though was cut off as he nearly stumbled when a powerful surge of anger he felt from the Khala. Immediately he found himself moving, hovering in the air in great speed as the power of the Khydarin Crystals on his armor flooded his veins trampling over servants and soldiers on his haste. Something bad had happened and he needed to know now as he navigated the halls. The sounds of teleportation he can already hear as the familiar clanking of Albus' knife sailed overhead and with a burst of crystals, his older brother appeared bearing the same serious look that showed no sign of the fun-loving half-elf that he is, but a feared and experienced captain of the Dark Templar Caste.

No words are said among them as they raised to the source of the distress that is now echoing on the Khala. Their thoughts and feelings more than overrode it already and they would ask later once this feeling that is so negative on the calm oceans of the Khala are solved.

Bowling over two sentries at the back of a large ornate door, Albus' didn't wait on blasting the door apart with raw magic that formed a blue hue as lightning; smashing the timbers and iron that held the door closed.

However what the two inside found made them immediately stop and the feeling of shock that they have sent a lot of curious tingles on the Khala as the rest of the Terrans felt it too. The two of them did not realize it though.

The throne room, for throne room it is can only be concluded to be a mess. An arrow is sticking at the red cushions of the throne while another arrow is buried to its hilt on the floor with cracks surrounding it. A rather large scorched mark is at the middle and comfy chairs are upended everywhere as if thrown by an explosion. A plain looking short guy with a crown (which Albus guessed to be the human king), contained an expression that ranged somewhere between shell-shocked and fear while his guards surround him bearing the same expression with their weapons drawn. Albus could see his sister crying over an unconscious Arko' who looked like she had bumped her head on something hard and the unconscious figure of Maieve beside them. Their uncle Neville had his pauldron on, the blue blade of the Templar sword shining in blue light while James' Draenei friend held her staff protectively over the wounded two. Albus' however was confused as he moved his eyes and saw his father holding a black long knife on the throat of a scared, and panicked looking Alleria Windrunner on the floor. Opening his mouth, Albus can't help but ask in confusion.

"Father what is going on here?"

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Captain Teagg Fishline isn't having a good day. First of all, preparations for the daily upcoming meeting of nobles, monarchs and chieftains of different kindred are about to be held on Stormwind again. Then there's this rumors that some type of Greenskin humongous monsters are raiding the outer settlements and forts. And if that isn't bad enough, news that the High Elven ambassadors were attacked. Who and what attacked them, Teagg doesn't know. However the worst of all that is facing him right now, a standing army of a conglomerate Alliance that somehow came from the West if the rumors are to be believed.

Said army is currently fully marshalled in front of him facing the gates, and it didn't take a wise man to know that they are currently impatient; and if not placated soon, would mow them down. It doesn't matter if the gate is close or open. He isn't stupid enough to believe that the normal fifty guards that man the western gates can stand up to an army this size long. Not even the extra forces he begged from the other fronts to reinforce his support could make a difference. Damn, why haven't the king ordered the army to be marshalled? He should have knowing that such an army is standing outside his gates who looked more than capable on conquering them.

"Please my lady!" begged Teagg currently as he stood there sweating in nervousness as the skimpily armored she-elf with light violet skin stood at the forefront of the golden army with fifty others asking politely in a tone so cold that sent shivers to the captain's spine to let them in. "I had to wait a message for the king before making a decision. He would hang me if I do things without his permission. I just work here,"

"And as I said before. I care little for your king," replied the she-wild-elf harshly, baring her fangs. "The Templar Grandmaster of the Alliance of Kalimdor is currently in danger. If you won't let us in. We will force ourselves in,"

"My lady please understand that the king had no bad intentions with your leader. We received no news that they are currently in trouble. Surely we would have heard by now through any messenger or something occuring loudly that would alert us if something was wrong," pleaded Teagg again hoping she would see reason.

She did not.

"Out of our way human!" hissed the she-elf angrily. "I had other sources that inform me that everything was not going right over there. The entirety of us know it, felt it. So I give you one last chance. Open the gate or we will!"

"No!"

"Very well. So be it. Templar! These men plan to abduct our Grandmaster in pretences of peace. You know what to do. Advance! Let nothing and no one stop you. _Elune-adore'!_ "

"For Aiur!" three thousand throats responded and before Teagg could do more than flinch at the words, the golden mass began moving in speeds that is completely unnatural, even for the lithe High Elves.

"Damn it! Damn it!" cursed Teagg as he pulled from his belt the boomstick that is gifted to Lothar by the Dwarves, and are now standard issue for some of the guards, exchanging their bows and crossbows for the more "mechanical marvel" of the dwarven forges.

"Warning shots only!" shouted Teagg as his men scrambled in a panic as the golden army edged faster towards the walls like water on rock. "If they get within sixty paces. Shoot to kill!"

Teagg didn't need to hear the men's "Yes sir," as the sound of boomstick discharges echoed around him. Teagg fervently hoped that these army would turn back. Message from the king stated clear and plain not to engage them in any way. That was before they started charging and docile on their camps. Now that they are charging though with the intent to sack the city until they found their leader, Teagg didn't know what to do. He really hoped that blood doesn't have to be spilled.

The captain of the west gate however thought too soon as a strangled sound suddenly came from one of his men and he immediately turned just in time to see one of his men fell down on his back, a violet arrow with white feathers sticking out of his shoulder blade.

"Shit! Shoot to kill!" roared Captain Teagg standing up and pointing his boomstick at the charging mass who looked much much closer on the walls, discharging it with a loud bang of smoke as shrapnel flew to the golden army.

Teagg expected seeing exploding limbs, and chunks of flesh at the impact as he had seen when Anduin Lothar showed them how dangerous a boomstick weapon can be when he executed three murderers on the town square today. However what he didn't expect is the sudden shields of blue light that shimmered into life between the flying shrapnels and their targets.

"They use magic?!"

"Damn!"

"They're not impacting!"

"We need the help of the Kirin Tor here!"

"Form up! I said form up damn it!" cursed Teagg as panic threatened to overwhelm his men at the appearance of what to be magical shields on every enemy. This is bad. Based on experience, Teagg knew that it takes continuous damage to destroy shields like that. And he doesn't have the numbers for a continued barrage. Still...

"Keep firing! Keeping firing damn it! Don't just stand there!" yelled Teagg as he struggled to plant another pellet ball at his boomstick.

"But captain! They're not dying!" protested one of the men who loosed another discharge at the too-near golden army now.

"I said fire!" roared Teagg standing up, finishing his reload just in time.

What the captain didn't expect is the sudden wooshing sound and before he knew it, a searing pain came from his chest. Blinking, the Stormwind captain only looked at the feathered arrow sticking out of him before more whishing sounds came from the back of the en-masse below and he could hear the sudden sounds of pain from all his men around him, as impact sounds are made. It is followed then by the moaning of the wounded and the frantic chatter of the survivors. Teagg only had a moment to look at the fifty skimpily armored she-elves at the back smirking in triumph with their massive bows out as he fell to his knees.

The last thing that the Captain of Stormwind sees before he completely blacked out is the sky opening and hundreds of light meteors heading towards the barred gate.

He isn't awake anymore when the explosions started and the western gate of Stormwind are sent flying in.

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James would like to think and believe that very few things surprises him. Trained as a Dark Templar, he had seen much and experienced much. Its not easy after all to achieve that title, much less become a captain. However James' did through hardwork and perseverance. He had traveled far and fought creatures on Kalimdor that threatened the safety of the Alliance, from the largest of the Thunder Lizards to the smallest goo-like creatures that can poison you with its spit. No, James isn't easily surprised.

However seeing his father in full fury bearing down with a knife on the hot looking babe elven woman that intrigued him with her no-nonsense attitude made him stop dead on his tracks along with his beloved brother. He barely heard his brother asking his father what is going on before he added his own penny.

"Dad? Alleria? Why are you fighting?" he blinked.

"You know her?" asked his father in a stiff voice which is the only indication that James' knew that his father is not just angry, but furious. There are very few times he saw his father angry and James would rather take the Dark Templar exam three lifetimes all over again than rather be the subject of his wrath and displeasure.

"No!"

"Yes!"

Two brothers immediately looked at each other in horror as they realized what they have said are complete opposites. James' nearly threw his knife to the side of a window as his father's expression morphed like that of thunderstorms.

"Truth! Now!" he snapped simply.

"Yes!" James spoke in unison with Albus. The possibility to lie didn't even occur to the two of them. "We uhh...rescued her with her group when you sent us on that scouting expedition on the North Dad where the smoke is coming from. The human outpost is destroyed there and Alleria and her party has been waylaid by Greenskins riding on wolves. We had to intervene. What those Greenskins plan to do to them once they're captured is nauseating,"

"Why? What are they planning?" nearly all eyes turned to the High Elf who immediately made a small squeak before averting her gaze despite the knife pressed to her throat.

"Not anything that a female needs to hear my dear," replied James with a smirk ignoring the face palm his father and brother along with his uncle Neville did as the High Elf on question turned a delicious color of pink at the wording. Geez they really had stuck up attitudes here.

His father though brought the conversation back on track again. "James, Albus. Did you know that she might be Highborne and enemy of your mother's race?"

This time James replied truthfully. "No, I did not. I thought at first that they're some kind of Elves that are different from where we are from,"

"Albus?" the Templar Grandmaster's eyes turned to the direction of James' younger brother.

"Yes and No," replied the High Templar in only a way a High Templar could. "I have my suspicions though about it, but I don't have the proof,"

"I see,"

"Wait! How did you know how to call me Highborne?" asked the elf on the floor in suspicion. "That is the name of my race in the past. Only us and those Kaldorei bastards know that name!" she spat. "What is your relation to them that you have some with you?" she glared this time at the unconscious Arko'Narin and Maieve.

"Alleria," this time it was James' who deigned to answer as he saw his father flinch at the insults thrown by the High Elf/ Highborne to a race that is closest to merging with that of the Terrans. "The Night Elves were part of the Alliance of Kalimdor. My father is the one in front of you now. And my mother is the High Priestess of the Kaldorei people,"

If the situation isn't so dire at the moment, James would have laughed at how comical Alleria's expression had become. Her mouth closed and open like a gaping goldfish as her eyes turned from one of hatred to that of disbelief and then much to everyone's surprise, that of shame as the realization of what James' spoke slowly sunk into her. Before anyone could ask her anything though, the High Elf's eyes rolled at the back of her head and she promptly fainted at the floor. The last thing that everyone heard from her though is:

"I don't believe it. I can't believe I had a crush to a half-Kaldorei, half-unknown person. This is a dream, this is just a very bad dream. Yes it is a bad dream," before she sank completely to Oblivion leaving a red-faced James' standing alone as every eye turned into his direction.

"What? I didn't do anything, I promise," he pointed out sagely, quite horrified that his voice came out more a squeak than the freezing ones that the Dark Templar exercised.

His father merely shook his head as if in disbelief at the whole thing as he stood up straight away from the knocked out elf. "Neville would you please bring Arko'Narin and Maive to their healers to be checked. I believe that won't be a bother King Llane,"

"No, by all means. Please do," waved a short man with a crown that James' believed to be the king. "And tell my healer to put them in another room far away from the retinue of ahh...Miss Windrunner here," he added as an afterthought sparing a glance at the knocked out High Elf.

"Very wise," commented Harrold. "Albus take her with them and deliver her back to her people. Tell them that she got sick and fainted at the middle of a meeting. Sestia, go with them and make use of that calming illusion magic that you seem to be very good at. It would make them less inquisitive on what happened really here,"

"Yes father," replied Albus hovering besides Alleria before lifting the girl bridal carry on his arms and floated away to the exit alongside Sestia who gave a little bow to Harrold and a small smile to him that James' reciprocated. They are followed by uncle Neville and his sister who is holding Arko's hand as his uncle lifted them with three Stormwind soldiers hefting Maieve in all her armored glory leaving only Harrold and James as the retinue of the Alliance left behind.

"Father," James started to apologize for all the ruckus but Harrold cut him off on it.

"James, do me a favor and please teleport as fast as possible to the Western side of this city. Tell your aunt Tyra about what happened here alongside with the entire army. Assuage their fears and calm them as best as you can. If my reading of the Khala is right. They are on their way here and I would rather avoid a war. We had bigger fish to fry,"

"Of course father," bowed James before throwing a wary glance at the remaining men who after all this time remained silent. "Are you going to be alright here on your own?"

"Yes my son. King Llane and I had a few subjects left to discuss. Now go. I believe that the Templar are already scaling the walls as we speak here,"

The reprimand is mildly put, but it is enough to send James to an overdrive as he saluted once more to his father before throwing his knife at the open window, ignoring the fascination of the humans as they watched in awe when he disappeared in a burst of crystals to where his knife is.

Even from where he is mid-air, James heard his father's next words to King Llane though.

"Now my king. Perhaps we can discuss a compromise that would prevent two of our allies from strangling one another,"

James' heard no more as he disappeared on the next flash of crystals heading westward.

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 **Please Review and Fav please. Next chapter would be interactions between Tyrande and Harrold finally.**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

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 _"For the honor of one is the honor of all,"_

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The sound of boots echoed loudly on the stone walls as the figure in black and silver traipsed over the winding stairs of the tower. His jet black hair with a bit specks of grey stood out like a bad wart on a face with his hood down but he didn't pay any attention to it. In fact he's not paying attention to anything else but the promise of a bed that waited him at the very top of the tower he is currently walking in.

 _"Why did they have to build it so damn high anyway?"_ he can't help but think to himself. The urge to grab his knife and simply throw it high as possible is growing and he would have done it if not for the fact that he made a promise to himself not to waste the valuable magic that the Khydarin crystals provided that revolutionized his people.

Still, that can't be said that he isn't tempted.

His legs hurt, his eyeballs are red from all the reading of documents and his brain seemed to have been turned to mush with all the haggling, persuading, acting and no small amount of intimidation a few hours before. It took all his speech skills to sit composed with King Llane as the unhurt High Elven ambassadors who immediately rushed to the throne room the moment they got wind of what happened to Alleria frothed with all their might on egging the Kingdom of Stormwind to destroy the "uncultured barbarian Kaldorei and their allies" or else they would consider it treason and an act of war against their race.

Of course any sane individual could see that Stormwind on its current state stood unprepared against the might of the Templar forces. They are nearly halfway through their decision when a frantic messenger burst through the doors and repeated that the Terran army had brought down the west gates and have seized control of the city though there are no casualties.

Of course that stopped the egging of the High Elves as the fact sink in that Stormwind now is powerless with the people under the blades of the Templar and more importantly, they would be captives and prisoners if they continued on their decision to perpetuate war between their nation and the might of the Western Alliance.

Only then did the morons agree to negotiations and Harrold had to clutch his head as the Elves stubbornly annoyed the hell out of him on every direction the peace treaty that King Llane suggested. It seems that the hatred between the two races had not calmed down despite separated thousands of leagues with one another. In fact if Harrold's going to be honest with himself, it seems to have worsened even more. Not to mention that both Night Elves and High Elves had unique hated outlooks over one another based on their histories.

According to the Kaldorei libraries that Harrold had taken time to read when the Alliance was young, the Highborne which is the High Elves had betrayed them and had opened a portal that invites demons of the "Burning Legion" to come into Azeroth on their lust for magic. This prompted the Kaldorei to revolt and ban the use of magic. The remaining Highborne were too proud though to admit their mistakes and left on their own free will. However for the Quel'Dorei, their history said another thing if the messenger was to be believed. According to them, they didn't go voluntarily but rather they were forced to go by vengeful Night Elves who couldn't accept what they were. They had lost their homes, their families, and everything they knew about to take refuge on the Eastern continents and had to wage a bloody war of attrition against a troll empire, wasting even more precious Elven blood before they managed to establish their new home.

In the end of the negotiations though that are temporary until it is brought to Anasterian. It simply stated that the Western Alliance dare not pass the northern kingdoms and any Kaldorei who would murder a High Elf without due reason would be executed under Quel'Dorei law and vice versa. Harrold was only to happy to agree. He had no plans on going North for whatsoever reason. The only reason he and the Templars are here is the Fel, no more no less. The sooner they get done with it, the better. Already he missed the comforting body of his wife that he held every morning.

It took a lot of haggling and soothing on King Llane's part for the ambassador to even agree on those terms and in the end, the treaty was done. Harrold had to hide his smirk as the High Elf looked like he had swallowed a lemon when they shook hands wishing each other good luck. With the way the elf pronounced it, Harrold was sure that the proud ponce would be wishing him anything but luck.

In the end of the negotiations, Harrold was brought up to speed on the current situation and found himself disappointed. For some reason, the Kingdrom right now is having trouble on all fronts. The Orcs as they called themselves kept on raiding the Kingdom's borders in random causing massive panic and confusion while their stronghold remained a secret. It didn't help that the upcoming meetings of nobles and lords are coming up forcing King Llane to double the guard on everything. The Navy of the Kingdom are also useless since the pirate Lord of Booty Bay, a man named Tel'Abar who according to Llane had been a menace for years have successfully raided the shores of Westhall bypassing the entirety of Stranglethorn vale where the supplies of Stormwind's navy are kept, the fortresses holding them burnt down in ashes bogging the navy on staying close to the shores lest risking starvation on the seas.

However while others see this as a tragedy on their plans, Harrold saw it as an opportunity. If Llane's words are true, the entire southern part of the continent are held by no king but a conglomerate of pirate lords and bandit chiefs banded together by this Tel'Abar person into a monstrous force so that the kingdoms won't invade them where then it would be cost productive. In fact the entire southland is a rich land filled with vegetation and lush plains, swamps and forests with the occasional snow. The only reason that nobody had invaded it yet is because of the fortress at Booty Bay, a large island only accessible by a large bridge which the pirates and cutthroats defended. More than one ancestor of Llane had tried conquering the isle and failing miserably.

For Harrold, it is the perfect place to invade. He is wise enough to know that the generosity of Llane and the people of Stormwind can only extend much during their stay here. They need a place on their own on this continent and the southern lands are ripe for the taking. If they managed to conquer Booty Bay, they would hold the seas on that part and not to mention a very defensible position and a safe haven. The land would be able to provide for them and the thought to build a city on this continent appealed a lot to Harrold's psyche. Still, he would discuss it tomorrow with the king. For now, sleep awaits.

Rounding the last bend of the tower, Harrold was practically skipping now when he stopped cold at the sight facing him. There, in front of him with a neutral look stood Tyrande with a small violet pack at her hands just outside the doors of the room that Llane had directed him to.

"Tyra, what are you doing here?" Harrold can't help but ask, noticing that the Priestess didn't seem surprised to see him. In fact it seems that she has been expecting him.

"Good to see you too Harrold," smirked the Priestess mischievously disarming the Grandmaster completely with her usual bright smile. Harrold had to shake his head off as he glared at her then.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?" she only smiled even more making Harrold growl even more.

"That!"

"What? Me smiling," she asked innocently...too innocent in fact.

"Yes," snapped the Grandmaster knowing where this argument again is headed.

It had been a usual game for them for the last twenty years. Tyrande would usually try to make him blush every time she preened herself in front of him, and in public no less that would cause a scandal for the Grandmaster if he was seen taking an interest on another woman other than his wife. The last time he was caught red-handed by Alleia, Harrold still haven't forgotten the palm faced mark that stayed on his face for a few months,courtesy of his wife. Of course Tyrande just acted innocent and unknowing, causing all the blame to fell on him only. After all, who would believe the big bad Templar Grandmaster red in the face compared to the sweet innocent looking Priestess?

"Aww, you're no fun," giggled Tyrande simply in front of him making Harrold relax a bit. He is aware of course that this side of Tyrande only came out in private when she acted not the stuffy priestess but the godmother and aunt for his children and a good friend to him and Alleia.

"Fine Tyra. Why are you here?" asked Harrold finally dropping the attitude of annoyance that he had put up.

"Well, I want to get in of course and sleep," answered the Priestess simply. "This is my room too you know,"

Harrold had to blink a couple of times to make sure that he had heard right from her. "T-this is your room? But I thought this is my room," he made sure to put an emphasis on "my" to the Night Elf who only eye-smiled at him. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping with the other girls?"

"Well according to King Llane's servant, this is the only room left. Arko' and Laetri's bunk is full and Maieve is still at their healing rooms with Sestia to guard her. Albus and James' are wandering as their wont every evening and Neville had gone back outside the walls to take charge of the Templars. So I had nowhere to go. The other available guest rooms are on the southern wing and it is full of High Elves. I had no wish to stay there, I would had a knife stuck on my ribs on the morning if I do,"

"And you just decided that you'll stay here?" asked Harrold incredulously. Tyrande just giggled at him.

"Of course. Other than Tyra, you're my only best friend, are you not? You're the only one that won't do unspeakable things to me on the bed," she added mischievously nearly making Harrold gargle as an image of himself making love to the gorgeous Priestess popped in his vision. It took all of his concentration to stop the massive blush that tried to come out of his cheeks and another bout of self-discipline to stop the images on his head.

No one in their right mind can argue that Tyrande isn't beautiful. In fact if Harrold's going to be honest with himself, he also had a crush so long at the Kaldorei Priestess for as far as he could remember. Even after he is married to Alleia. Of course it didn't help that the two are polar opposites of one another though they are like halves of each. Alleia has always been the shy and the reckless one where Tyrande is the mischievous and calm. Together, they are like a circle that kept each other strong. In fact now that Harrold thought about it, Tyrande has almost been a constant on his family's life on Aiur, being a nanny and almost mother to his children every time she is spared from her duties and from rehabilitating Arko' at that time.

"Fine!" sighed the Templar Grandmaster in defeat as he reached for the keys handed to him by the head servant when he left Llane's throne room. "But if Alleia's going to kill me because of this, you're the one taking the first blow,"

"Oh don't worry Harrold," the Templar Grandmaster nearly jumped a mile as she pressed herself at his back making him terribly aware of how blessed Tyrande is at the chest department. Her warm breath tickled his ears as she whispered. "We already talked about it,"

Before the flushed Terran could properly ask what she meant by "talked about it" the door snapped open and Harrold leaning on its surface completely lost his balance, flapped his hands in a completely girl motion and landing flat in an undignified heap on the ground. He can't help the massive blush that adorned his face as Tyrande's tinkling and mocking laughter echoed on the empty walls of the tower.

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James whistled a bit as he followed the instructions written to him by one of the passing attendants that directed him to the Healing chambers of Stormwind. He just finished checking in with his uncle Neville with the army, and for some reason he got the urge to visit the High Elf maiden that his father had fought at the throne room and the one whom he had saved.

As he wandered; James had to admit that the humans here have built a wondrous marvel of architect with their palace. Though it didn't hold a candle to the grandeur and majesty of the golden city of Aiur, it still looks pleasing to the eyes compared to the ramshackle buildings that surround it. It looks like a fairy tale castle that his father read to him when he was younger. For some reason, that fact made James giggle as he imagined the proud palace of Stormwind being used as a refuge for some air-head princess.

Still, currently though he can't help but be a bit irritated with the zigzag patterns that the castle had. Why oh why did these people prefer their halls where everything goes left and right? Why can't they just make halls that preferred a straight line like the golden pyramid of Aiur had? It seems much simpler that way and they do have the space for it.

Checking the piece of paper which is his manual and guide, James muttered to himself as he followed the right and left drawings the servant had put there. Five minutes after found the Captain of the Dark Templar looking miffed and terribly angry under the moonlight as he ended outside for the third time on some kind of gardens.

 _"I swear that when I got my hands on that little pipsqueak tomorrow. I'm going to wring his neck,"_ thought James' to himself as the feeling that he had been duped by a servant sunk in.

However the Dark Templar's train of thought of murder and eviscerating the poor servant in a hundred different ways was cut off when a familiar musical voice that he heard before on the road before all this debacle started spoke at his back.

"James?"

Normally when facing women, James would wear his trademark grin and boyish look that would make half the Kaldorei in Ashenvale swoon over him. However right now; James had no desire to do all of that. Instead a weary sigh left his lips as he turned to look at the High Elf who are standing there looking at him in surprise wearing a green night gown that did little to hide her slim body, her hair unbrushed and she looked like she had just woken up.

"My lady," James inclined his head (Templar never bow unless it is to the Grandmaster) at her in acknowledgement.

"What are you doing here at this time of the night?" asked the High Elf a bit warily.

"Just admiring the sights my lady," replied James with half a smirk and a grimace. There's no way he was telling her that he is lost.

"Ahh yes. Your Kaldorei blood urge you to seek out the beauty of the nights," she said simply making James wonder if it is an insult or a compliment. In the end he merely shrugged.

"The night sky have always been beautiful my lady. It just takes an inquisitive mind to take the time to look at it and appreciate its beauty,"

For a moment the High Elven Ranger remained silent and just when James' wondered if he had accidentally insulted her; slim beautiful lips morphed into a knowing smile.

"It's good to see that I am not the only one who appreciates watching the sky at least," she said walking towards him and gently grabbing his hand much to James' surprise as she led him to a bench hidden by bushes of flower beds sitting him beside her as she stared at the night sky dotted with stars. "I'm sorry James, but would you mind the company?"

Only a fool would refuse having the company of a beautiful and gorgeous woman like here. "Of course not my lady. It would be a pleasure having you at my side,"

She only smirked at him as if amused terribly by his words. "You do know how to flatter a girl James," she spoke making James' blush a bit before she then turned her attention back to the night sky watching the moon and the stars.

Of course this prompted James to examine her, or to be more specific, ogle her. He had to admit, she looked terribly beautiful in an exotic kind of way. Her skin tone is almost the same with the humans with the same color. Only more regal and something that he can't dip his finger in. He could sense the magic flowing on her veins of course. Its almost having an overload on it that even James' would label dangerous. Her hair is somewhere between blonde and golden and her eyes is an amazing hue of blue. She isn't blessed on the chest department like Sestia but she had the appropriate curves. Her body is slim but looked more like a whipcord showing that she is a warrior in every sense. James' respected her for that. He didn't appreciate women that is just a pretty face and a moon-addled fool that run after dreams of love and romance. That's the reason why James' flirted more with Kaldorei females rather than those of Rohan and the Harpies. The firstborn of the Grandmaster loved women who can hold their own; though this High Elf looked like a balanced version of gentle and strong.

"Done staring?" a dry voice suddenly asked making James "eep" a bit as he saw the High Elf looking at him with a smirk.

"I wasn't staring," the Dark Templar had to mentally kick himself at how lame that excuse is especially since it deepened the smirk of the High Elf.

"Oh yes you are James," she said in a tone of finality that made James let off a sigh in defeat before a realization then struck him that he had avoided until now.

"I thought you're angry with my kind Alleria?"

"That can wait in the morning James," spoke the Ranger as she reclined back on the bench shivering a bit with the cold air. "For now my savior and friend. Just join me appreciating the night sky in all its splendor,"

Groomed to be a gentleman with his uncle Draco, James instinctively wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the High Elf completely missing the raised eyebrow that she threw at him as he pulled her body closer to him; sharing his warmth as he focused on the stars whose names her mother taught to him many years ago.

"Yes indeed," spoke James marvelling at the Night sky with his arms loped around still at Alleria not minding the fact that their position right now can only be labeled as provocative to any observer. "The stars are indeed beautiful tonight,"

"It is, it is," replied Alleria in a thoughtful tone and James' smiled a bit as he fel her head lean on his right shoulder as they remained silent with him holding her, watching the Night slowly pass through.

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Sylvanas giggled as she watched the frogs leap after one another on the small pond that are found at the side of the place. She had only been at Stormwind twice learning the arts of being a Ranger under the tutelage of her older sister. And all that time Sylvanas can't help but both scoff and be fascinated by the humans.

Compared to Elves they are ugly, noisy and unimpressive. However the young Ranger-in-Training can't help but be fascinated by them as the same time as she detested them. To survive without magic on their daily lives is a great feat in her eyes. Back at Quel'Thalas, nearly every High Elf lived on luxury thanks to their access to the magics of the Well of Eternity brought by their ancestors with them on exile. Heck, even the lamps of Quel'Thalas are fueled by magic unlike the primitive torches used by the humans of Stormwind.

Sylvanas' concentration on watching the frogs chase one another on the pond waters though is broken as out of nowhere a rock sailed on the air in front of her nearly hitting her head as she ducked.

"What in the world is that?" Sylvanas asked to no one as her skills instinctively pinpointed the source of where the rock came from which is a high ledge balcony that is open to the elements.

Curiosity now piqued, Sylvanas crept silently on the stone pavements, her soft leather boots barely making any sound on the hard floor as she neared her target. The Ranger though stopped frozen as a familiar voice then called out on the last bend she had to peek to see who is there that threw the rock at her.

"Come out Sylvanas. I can sense you; you know,"

Busted and ashamed at being caught sneaking like a thief, Sylvanas broke cover as she smiled sheepishly at the figure sitting cross-legged mid air where a dozen smooth rocks of different kind circled over his hovering form floating also around the said person. Sylvanas' recognized only quartz, limestone and marble.

"Albus," curtsied Sylvanas on acknowledgement with her robes covering her night gown.

"Lady Sylvanas," Albus nodded in return.

Sylvanas' can't help but blush horribly as she recognized that he is bare chested and only on his pants. Automatically her eyes wandered to his magnificent physique which are hidden when wearing that robes of blue and gold of his. It didn't help that the long black hair that Albus had are open for her to see. Unlike his brother James, Albus wore his black hair long like all High Templar. All in all he is a very fine specimen and Sylvanas' felt a little hot at seeing him like this.

"My lady, are you alright?" the voice of the High Templar cut through the fog that had covered Sylvanas' mind bringing her back to the present as she blinked and saw the hot Templar had stood up while she doodled on cloud nine and he is currently standing close...too close for her comfort.

"What are you doing?!" the young Elf half-screamed, half-shrieked as she pushed him away quite horrified and panicked that he had closed the distance between the two of them without even her noticing it. She's supposed to be a Ranger goddamn it!'

"Forgive me my lady," the half-elven bowed respectfully to her. "I thought you are having some kind of seizure or something. You are standing there looking dazed my lady and you did not respond to any of my calls. I had no choice but to shake you when I noticed your saliva is falling from the side of your lips,"

Sylvanas is sure that her face resembled a tomato right now. She can't believe that she had drooled over him... OPENLY! And had been caught in the process. Already the image of a chibi Alleria yelling at her for being an idiot and shaming both the Ranger corps and their race to a foreigner and a hostile one at that echoed on her head. The thought of it simply made Sylvanas dizzy already.

Albus must have noticed her dazed expression for he smirked a bit, but not before leading Sylvanas to one of the more comfortable flower beds helping her sit down. The High Elf too lost on her thoughts completely did not register the fact that:

A.) He had held her hand with his own.

B.) She is fraternizing with the enemy

C.) He is sitting beside her currently.

The gentle and smooth hands of Albus nearly made Sylvanas jump five feet in the air as she felt his hand touch her forehead.

"What are you doing?" asked the High Elf, eyes raised over at the hands prodding and poking her temple while at the same time trying to bring down the odd sensation on her gut that she can't put her finger into.

"Just checking out if you have a fever of some sort. You dazed there for a second my lady and you are red and sweating. Have you eaten something funny today my lady?"

"Something funny?"

"Yes," the High Templar nodded sagely. "Colored mushrooms and such. Stuff like that can cause fevers and hallucinations," he explained.

"No, I think I did not," blinked Sylvanas in reply. She was sure that the only thing she ate before coming here was the vegetable soup that the infirmary had given her.

"I see. Maybe you're just fatigued by the travel towards here then," smiled Albus in a friendly manner before speaking again. "Again I'm sorry about what happened between my father and your sister my lady. I truly hoped that my Kaldorei friends would not meet your people to avoid that kind of conflict,"

"I understand," nodded Sylvanas. "Though your father is not entirely at fault. My sister is reckless some times and she doesn't take well about the stories when the Kaldorei kicked our ancestors out of our homes. But still, what she did is hasty and a mistake. Worse since its done in public,"

"And you my lady? Aren't you mad at me also like your sister? I am part Kaldorei also after all. Its even worse since my mother is the High Priestess Alleia, one of the few that time to vote your people off your ancient homeland,"

Sylvanas only sighed tiredly. By all rights and purposes, she should feel hate to the person she is talking to right now, but for some reason she isn't feeling any of it. The only thing she feel is the fact that he's way too close to her and she could feel herself blushing for no reason whatsoever and her stomach are doing loops of confusion every time their faces met.

"I-I'm not sure Albus," replied Sylvanas haltingly and truthfully. "You saved my life, you saved all our lives a few hours only before. You rescued my sister who is more precious to me than gold. The tales of Kaldorei taught to us ever since we are young, is the fact that your kindred are savages that dance wildly on the trees, doing fornication everywhere and without any sense of honor and order at all; only caring for the next kill and murder they are going to do,"

Much to Sylvanas' surprise, Albus grinned softly at her words. "I might not agree with all the negative stuff but I do agree about the part of dancing on the trees and doing fornication with the men they like, or women. And speaking about dancing, do you know how to dance Sylvanas?"

The High Elf blinked, not sure that she head heard right as she stared at her "friend". "Dance?"

"Yes, dance. Don't you have dances at Quel'Thalas?" he asked.

"We do. I just don't participate on it," replied Sylvanas quite heatedly now.

"So that's a no?"

"Yes,"

Much to Sylvanas' horror, a sly smirk appeared on the calm and serious face of the High Templar. "Then I'll teach you how to dance my lady,"

"Hey!" Sylvanas' protest was thrown off through the air as the High Templar grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet towards him under the moonlight in the middle of the gardens. If only she was not blushing to the roots of her hair in nervousness and something else that she didn't yet understand, Sylvanas would have noticed how romantic their setting is.

"Alright my lady. Listen well for this is how you dance," smiled Albus at her making Sylvanas blush once more as she felt his hand travel to the side of her waist.

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Harrold is sure he's going to die. Scratch that, he's really going to die. The moon shines beautiful and bright on his window and the cold wind flowed freely giving the tower room alloted to him a cold drafty feeling. However not even the nice air, or the comfortable bed could distract Harrold's train of thoughts.

Why?

Maybe its because the fact that he's sharing a bed with a woman that isn't his wife, but one that he really admired. Not to mention that the said woman is currently wearing a white night gown that covered almost nothing of her light purple skin. The Templar Grandmaster would bet his Khydarin Crystal that the moment he faced her sleeping form, he would see her in all her glory through her almost see through clothing.

Harrold isn't sure if he's going to cry or laugh at his current condition. The room that Llane provided for him and Tyrande is accommodating in fact. It has good toiletries, comfy chairs, a dining table and a living room to receive guests. Heck there's even a private study that can be used if anyone wanted peace and order. A small library is also present containing dozens of interesting books and two wash basins on separate rooms to be given privacy. All in all, it is a room that can only belong to the nobility though it held no candle to the more advanced rooms of Aiur which has air-conditioning and mage lights as replacements for torches.

However despite all the nice and perfect accommodations provided by the King of Stormwind for him and Tyrande. Someone apparently had the worst idea to put a single large bed that can fit two people on the sleeping room rather than two separate beds.

This of course earned a thirty minute argument with Tyrande. Harrold being the perfect gentleman and knight he is, offered the entire bed to Tyrande whereas Tyrande protested otherwise that he can had the bed since she would be meditating otherwise, which is another form of sleeping for Kaldorei. Of course her insisting that he take the bed and leave her at the cold floor left Harrold feeling ruffled and insulted. In the end after a lot more arguing on his part that it would be unethical since he's married to Alleia, an argument that Tyrande simply waved off, Harrold and her finally reached a compromise.

They would share the bed together, but there would be pillows between them to prevent them from rolling over one another and do something the two of them might regret later on thanks to temptation.

Of course it was easier said than done. Tyrande apparently enjoyed hugs with her pillows, and for some reason that Harrold did not know about. Fate had once again intervened with his life and the beautiful Priestess of the moon is currently wrapped around him like an eel sleeping lightly. He did not know when she moved from her position on the bed, but she did move and entangled herself with him.

It did not help that she is irritatingly pretty. In fact she could rival Alleia in beauty. Whereas Alleia brought the word simple to enormous heights. Tyrande on the other hand brought beauty on the word innocence. She simply did not know how beautiful she transformed herself to be every time she made that innocent look on her face.

The fact did not escape him that her more than average chest is pressed into him quite snugly, nor the fact that her legs are over his making him deeply aware the heat of her inner thighs. Oh by God he is tempted, he really is. It would be so easy to ravage the helpless and innocent looking priestess right now. She could be his if he wanted to.

Alleia.

His wife's name echoed like a thundercloud on his psyche. No, he would not betray his wife by laying with another woman. And he would not taint Tyrande who is his best friend. He could still recall the beautiful scared and nervous look Alleia had on their wedding night. He had never seen anyone so vulnerable, so pure and trusting when she gave all that she is to him. Beautiful Tyrande may be and tempting like a devil's fruit though unintentionally, but he would remain true to his wife. To beautiful Alleia who is right now most probably watching over the balcony of their accommodations on Aiur waiting for him alone out there. Yes, he would remain faithful to her, no matter the reason. Not even Tyrande can tempt him. He will be faithful that he swears on his honor. For Harrold James Potter.

It is Honor above all.

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 **Hiya! So its done. Please review and fav hihihi I wont be going spoilers for the next chapter. Keep on supporting my work readers. You've probably guessed the pairings by now.**


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